THE CHILD

THE CHILD

A new day was born,
A child with it.
He was the sun,
Light to his family.

Their hearts knew joy,
Their bodies knew rhythm.
He was their gold,
His Blood, milk and honey.

The earth drank to its heart's content,
The seas ate till to its fullest.
Hens met their death in the waters,
Palmwine soaked the soil.

Nursed till he breathed,
Fed till he lived,
He became diamond,
More precious than stone.

Then the night awoke,
The tribe with it.
The time had come,
For the gods to taste his blood.

His father fought,
His mother wailed,
But wealth must be made,
Power must be taken.

He was stolen from his mother,
Torn from his father.
The altar awaited him,
The knife craved his blood.

Men took him to the darkness,
Women sang to the gods.
The hour came,
The shrine was set.

Four men held him down,
Fear gripped his heart.
He wailed for empathy,
But evil had no heart,
The wicked had no soul.
The knife felt the sky,
Crashing back to his heart,
When it froze and fell to the earth.

The wizard found the ground,
Air fled from him.
The four suddenly vanished,
Left him to wail for mercy.

It was only then,
He found peace,
In the arms of an hunter.

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