1. Many people had heard the words of the Poet when he had stood in the village square and recited his poetry, and many had seen the dream which they dreamed, and many believed his words to be wise and true.
2. And there were some who still mocked him and laughed at him, for they perceived that he was a fool and a charlatan, and they thought themselves to be wise, and they did see not the destruction which would be heaped upon them by the swift and judgemental hand of Nature.
3. The Poet again set out to speak to the people of the village, and he arrived at the village square, and he beheld that there were many who had come to see him, even that they might hear the Wisdom that he would deliver.
4. And he perceived that many had listened to that which he had previously spoken, and he knew that many had heard, and that many had seen, and that many had felt.
5. And he saw that still some had not heard, and this did not harden his heart, for he knew that the words he spoke were not from him, but from the Sage, and even from THE ONE.
6. And the Poet saw that the leaders of the village had gathered with the people, and he saw that they were furious at the sight, for the people wished to hear his words, and this made the leaders jealous.
7. And they did murmur among themselves, and they did speak unto the people, saying, “Why do ye listen to this Poet? And why do ye gather here? For he is but a fool! He is as a wolf among lambs, and he will corrupt thy  minds!
8. And have not we, thy leaders, shown mercy unto you? And have we not given you all manner of pleasures and joys, that ye might be happy? And doth thou seek us for Alignment? Nay, you do not, and ye will surely pay the price!”
9. The Poet spoke unto the leaders of the village, saying,  “What do ye know of Alignment? From which source do you take your own instruction? For you have led the people of this village to nothing but pain and suffering, and they have surely lost their way, as have ye!”
10. The Poet’s words infuriated the leaders, and they replied, saying, “Hath thou no respect for us? For we are thy leaders, and thou art our subject! What thou sayeth is blasphemy! Thy tongue is as a serpent which doth spread falsehoods and fear amongst our people, and thy way is only deception!”
11. “And what do ye know of deception?” The Poet spoke with great power in his voice, for he walked on the path of Alignment, and he knew that he spoke with the power of the Sage, and even with the power of THE ONE. “You speak of my way and my words, but I warn thee not to speak of such things, for it is not my way, but the way of THE ONE, and I speak not my words, but the words of THE ONE.
12. Have ye not seen in your own hearts the destruction which is to come if we follow your ways? You seek direction only from your own wretched desires, but I have been guided by the Sage—even by the Logos of THE ONE—and I know of things to come, and I know of your way, that it is the way of death, and of pain, and of sorrow. I have seen that your way doth lead to a great flood—not of water, but of blood! But all who listen to my words and hear them in their hearts and souls will surely find eternal life and deep Wisdom, and safety from the storms that gather beyond the distant hills.
13. Ye wretched leaders, do ye not see that the people of this village wish to hear my words? Decide my fate how ye will, and murmur amongst yourselves at your leisure, but for now I shall speak divine Wisdom and truth into the hearts of those who would listen, for time is swift, and I have yet to fulfil my purpose!”
14. The leaders felt the power of his words, and they were infuriated by what they had heard, and they warned the people of the village, saying, “This fool speaks only lies, and he knows neither of truth nor Wisdom! Listen if ye will, but know that all who follow in His path shall be banished, and shall live within these walls no longer!
15. And now, thou deceitful fool, speak if thou must, and say what thou wouldst say, and let us all hear the lies that thy tongue would spread, and let us see they who would follow thee, even that we may decide their fate also.”
16. Some of the people left the village square, for they were guided by their leaders, and they felt fear in their hearts. Others stayed, for they wished to hear the Poet, and though they also feared the judgement of their leaders, they showed great courage in spite of their fear.   
17. The Poet spoke to those who remained, saying, “Hear these words, that ye might be guided by providential Wisdom and truth, and that ye might be free.”
    
    

There is a voice that beckons me
To the yonder distant hills,
Where the gold flaked sky meets the forest floor
And the valley’s daffodils.

And within the lofty woodlands 
Near a mountain waterfall
Sits the Sage of ancient lineage, 
B’low a fig tree, standing tall.

And the fig tree doth provide
All the fruits the Sage will need
To sustain him and to guide him
When, for Wisdom, he doth plead.

And he sits there, sipping water,
Which the mountains giveth freely, 
For it holds eternal memory
Which, with fruit, doth show him clearly

That, within him, he contains
His father’s soul which doth provide
All the Wisdom from each father, 
Down to Him who lives on high.

The Sage doth sit there thinking  
of his fathers of the past,
And he hopes they’ll share deep Wisdom
That can help him on his path.

But as he sits beneath the tree
And eats the ancient fruit, 
As he listens to the water flow—
A harrowing pursuit—

He learns of a dragon in his mind
That guards most every way
To the secrets which are hidden,
Which his fathers long to say.

And although this dragon taunts him
With her awful fiery breath;
Though she chases him with fury 
Down a path to certain death,

The Sage doth hear a whisper
Which gives to him the key, 
For the voice says, “Fight the dragon, 
Thou art stronger than is she.”

He turns to fight the dragon, 
Though, from fear, he shuts is eyes,
And he wishes not to see her, 
Lest he meet his swift demise.

But as he opens up his eyes  
To view the wretched beast,
With an expectation in his heart
That he’d be a dragon’s feast,

The Sage is filled with much surprise 
To learn the awful trick,
And to see that the dragon never was, 
And that his fear had made him sick.

And as he starts to weep
For the power of this moment, 
His soul is filled with Wisdom— 
Providential by bestowment.

He listens to this Wisdom 
As great secrets are unfurled, 
And he hears his divine calling:  
He’s the Saviour of the world.

At first this knowledge scares him,
For he can’t begin to see 
How a task so deeply sacred 
Is bestowed on such as he.

His body starts to tremble; 
His countenance falls dim; 
He wishes to return back
To his ignorance and sin.

But his heart is filled with peace 
When the soft voice doth implore, 
“Young Sage, find comfort in Me;
We’ve done all this before.”

These words give lift beneath his wings,
And soon his soul takes flight, 
For, his mission, he’s accepted, 
And he’s ready for the fight. 

He hears of Heaven’s voices, 
His confidence is building, 
But saddened is the Teacher, 
For He sees beyond his gilding.

The Sage is now ecstatic, 
And he rises to his feet. 
He says with great excitement, 
“No more dragons will I meet!

For I’ve been called the Saviour; 
I’m the judge of all my people, 
And all will hear my gabble, 
For who is now my equal?

And Teacher, wilt Thou show me, 
Who should be the first I judge? 
For Thou hath called me Saviour, 
And from Thee I will not budge.”

But as he sits there listening
For the Teacher’s first reply,
He hears not but a whisper,
And he comprehends not why.

The minutes turn to hours, 
And the hours turn to days; 
The days turn to weeks, 
And he hears no single phrase.

And in an hour of weakness,
Mid a dark and lonely night, 
He hears a voice from Heaven: 
“Thou’ve one dragon yet to fight,

For ego has become thee,
And for thee, she’s made a bed,
And thou’ve been sleeping with her,
And by her, thou hath been fed.

And thou hath stood before Me
And asked who thou might judge,
And now I beg that thou might hear
This providential nudge:

Thou’ve entered in a union
With this dragon of thy mind,
And unless thou stand above her, 
Thou wilt never be Aligned;

And thy calling will be fruitless, 
And not a life thou’lt save,
For when thy ego stands against Me,
There’s no path, for thee, I’ll pave.

And in this final hour,
‘Fore the dawning Sun doth rise, 
Wilt thou bow thy head before Me
As I lift up thy disguise?

Wilt thou promise that thou’lt trust Me?
Wilt thou promise that thou’lt care? 
Wilt thou call upon My Wisdom, 
Knowing that I will be there?

Wilt thou place thy trust within Me
As we fight the dragon in thee?
Wilt thou know that even saviours 
Need a saviour? Doth thou now see?”

“Thou’ve shown me my behaviour,”
Spoke the newly humbled Sage, 
“And I wish to tame this dragon,
Though I fear that I may cave.

And I beg of Thee this morning,
As the Sun is slowly dawning
And the birds will soon be waking, 
Wilt Thou hear the peace I’m making?

For I’ll put my trust within Thee,  
B‘low this grand and ancient fig tree,
And I’ll ask, wilt Thou, Great Teacher,
Shed Thy loving grace upon me?”

“Faithful Sage, know thou hath pleased Me, 
For I see that thou hath learned, 
Though I warn thee that this dragon
Will, from thee, not soon be turned.

For thy pride, it is eternal,
As the never-ending tide;
For, by Nature, she is formed,
And, in thy nature, she’ll reside.

But have not fear before her, 
For, in her, thou may confide
All thy worries and thy aims, 
And, with thee, she will abide.

And if thou would ask her kindly
To employ her strength and might
In the coldest of thy winters
And the darkest of thy nights,

She’ll serve thy cause, not fight it, 
And on her back thou’lt fly, 
For ev’n this beast needs saving;
That’s the task for thou and I.

So wilt thou climb upon her, 
Putting courage to the test?
Wilt thou whisper to this dragon
That, her pow’r, thou doth request?

Wilt thou tell her that she’s needed,
And that, thy load, thou cannot bear? 
Wilt thou tell her she’ll be useful 
When, deep Wisdom, I doth share?”

“I shall do as Thou hath asked me,
For Thy words hath made me see,
And within this newfound vision,
I’ll direct my trust to Thee.”

“Good,

Then listen,

For I’ll tell thee only once.

Righteous Sage, thou art a witness
To the great devouring mistress:
Mother Nature, who provideth
And divideth night and day.

And the things which are within Her 
Are bound to Her by fate, 
And they know not Her direction,
Though they cower neath Her weight.

And though reason finds exception
In immaculate conception, 
Nature has no clear beginning,
And no ending, but deception.

And within Her winding river
Thou doth splash and thou doth shiver,
And She laughs when thou doth murmur 
Of the pains She doth deliver.

For She has thee in Her grasp—
An awe-inspiring, deadly clasp— 
An e’er expanding conscious being,
Nourished by each painful gasp.

And if thou doth aim to cheat Her,
Or to hide from her deceit,
If, from fear, thou turneth from Her,
Thou wilt never be complete.

But if thine ears would hear;
If thine eyes would start to see;
And if thine heart would learn to feel, 
Would thou not float upon Her sea?

And if thou wouldst now align thy way
With Hers, and learn to love Her,
Would thou not be showing Wisdom? 
Will, Her secrets, She not whisper?

For She is a loving Mother, 
Though She quickly turns to smother
Any creature on the Earth
Who would proclaim to praise another.

For She doth govern freely
Over land and sea and sky,
And thy soul cannot escape Her,
Even when thy flesh has died.

And although thy weak perception
Cannot fathom Her direction,
And thy reason cannot see
Beyond Her matrix of deception,

And though thou might find exception 
In thy pain, of Her conception,
Thou must listen to My word—
My mighty Logos resurrection.

For I’ve given thee a language 
That has flourished into Culture,
Which doth shape thy very being— 
Though it often acts the vulture.

And if thou wilt learn this lesson:
That thy words can summon Heaven,
And that, also, they are fodder
For a dark and bleak possession;

And if—in thine introspection— 
Thou should see Nature’s perfection
In the whistling of a songbird, 
Or the wildflower’s golden section,

Wilt thou bow thy head before Me,
E’en in humble genuflection? 
Wilt thou heap thy thanks upon Me
As I giveth My affection?

For, by Nature, thou art formed,
And, to Her, thou’lt soon return, 
For She grows upon Her ashes
And there’s always more to burn.

And, by Culture, thou art fashioned,
For thy people do provide
All the Wisdom from the ages, 
Which, within thee, they confide.

And when Nature turns against thee
With Her cold and lonely winters,
And when Culture has corrupted,
What will save thy soul that withers?

Lo, if Nature giveth seeds,
And if Culture giveth bread, 
It’s My Logos that connects them;
It’s My vital cosmic thread.

For My Logos is thy light,  
It is thy word and pure attention; 
It will guide thee on thy path
As thou doth seek thy soul’s perfection.

But know that in My Logos 
Thou wilt find a jealous Teacher,
For I speak only to humans,
Though I help all other creatures.

And if thou would learn to listen
As I give to thee My guidance;
If, My signs, thine eyes doth see, 
Thou wilt avoid My swift subsidence.

For there’s nothing which doth please Me
More than eyes that clearly see, 
Or a heart that feels My presence, 
Or an ear that hears My plea.

And if thou wouldst pay attention
To My still and quiet voice;
If thou would ask Me all thy questions
And, in My bright light, rejoice,

Thou wilt find, in our communion,
Mighty strength along thy way, 
And if thou wouldst listen closely,
Here are words that I might say:

‘Have thou courage, be thou just,  
Employ temperance when thou must, 
But above all, seek deep Wisdom,
Lest thy soul be turned to rust.

For thy flesh doth move to one way
While thy soul doth move another, 
And if Wisdom be thine aim then thou wilt
Please thy jealous Mother.’

So if thou hath paid attention; 
If thine eyes hath learned to see, 
Thou might know that thou art made
In perfect image of the three.

For Nature is thy Mother
Who doth craft thy soul’s existence, 
And Culture is thy Father
Who, in chaos, gives assistance;

And thy parents hath provided
One last piece: thy prudent dreaming—
For My Logos is thy guide which doth 
Present to thee all meaning.

And upon this close inspection—
If thy senses are alert—
Thou might know thou art My eyes
Looking out upon My work.

And if thou looketh closely, 
And if thou searcheth wide, 
Thou wilt feel My fiery Logos,
And, in thee, I will confide,

That all I ever long for 
Is to see through humankind,
And to gain in understanding, 
And to someday be Aligned.

But if thou would block thine ears,
And if thou would close thine eyes,
And if thou would shun My Logos
And hear not thy Mother’s cries,

Will She not seek retribution? 
Would this be a great surprise? 
If thou doth not do thy duty,
Won’t I summon thy demise?

For My Logos now has shown thee
That there is no competition, 
And that none else are above Me,
And that this is thy condition.

So Wise Sage, bow down before Me
And discard thy flesh addiction,
And entrust to Me thy worries
Through thy prideful mind’s admission

That, unless thy soul is baptised  
By My fire of Cosmic Reason— 
Which doth start as just a spark
And will become a burning beacon—

Thou wilt never roam o’er fertile plains,
And I’ll keep, from thee, My Wisdom.
So, Great Sage, wilt thou now yield unto
The larger cosmic system?

For thy life is but a game,
And in this game there’s but one rule,
Which is given from the Mother 
And the Father to the fool:

It’s My burning Logos, rising!
Oh, the mountains thou wilt move
Once I’ve taught thee to love Nature, 
And to, Culture, e’er improve!

So if thou wilt hear My Logos,
And if thou wilt suffer fools,
And if thou wilt be a witness
That there are no other rules,

And if thou wilt be a student 
Of thy parents’ holy schools,
Thou wilt share in all their riches,
And their pure, eternal jewels!

And if thou hath now been listening; 
If thine eyes have, glory, seen,
I will ask of thee one question,
That thy soul may now be clean:

Though My way is of deception
And My judgement doth befall thee,
Wilt thou shed thine understanding?
What is it that thou doth call Me?”

“Great Teacher, Thou hath shown me, 
Through Thy mercy and Thy grace, 
All the power and protection
Which doth come from Thine embrace.

And to Thee, I will direct 
My ever-strengthening attention,
For I have, from Thee, received 
A vast, eternal comprehension.

And now Thou hath requested  
That I guess Thine nomenclature?
Well, if I am not mistaken,
Thou art Universal Nature.

And also Thou art Logos, 
Thou art Earth and Moon and Sun, 
Thou art Nature, Culture, Wisdom,
Thou art even called THE ONE.

And now that Thou hath shown me 
Of the structure of Thy game,
Wilt Thou share with me Thy path,
That I may journey on the same?

For Thou’ve called me the Saviour,
And, this call, I’ll not take lightly,
And, my soul, Thou hath enlightened,
With Thy word, which shineth brightly.

So Logos, stay Thou burning,
Shed upon me all Thy Wisdom;
What is it I should do if Thou wouldst
Have me save Thy Kingdom?”

“Beloved Sage, thou art correct 
To question of thy path to glory,
And if thou can follow orders,
Thou shalt live a hero’s story;

For within this world thou’ve entered
There exists an architecture
Which prevaileth all thy knowledge,
Lest thou trust in this conjecture.

So pay thou close attention,
And miss thou not a trick, 
For, accountable, I’ll hold thee, 
Since thou art My finest pick.

Be still…

Breathe…

Thy world, it is a dream;
Thy soul an ever-flowing mist,
And if thou wilt pay attention,
Then the Logos will assist.

But if thou wouldst turn away from Me,
And in ignorance subsist,
Then I’ll leave thy soul yet stranded, 
For, My guidance, thou’ve dismissed.

And thy people, too, are dreaming,
And the blind doth lead the blind,
But lest one of them ask purely,
I’ll, in none of them, reside.

So be thou as a witness 
To My merciful decree
Which has died the souls of many men:
The truth will set thee free.

For if thou wilt truly listen, 
And if thou wilt truly see, 
And if thou wilt speak with mighty truth,
A lighthouse, thou wilt be.

But before I light thy beacon 
To, thy people, show the way,
Thou must reckon with thine own dream;
Thou art just as lost as they.

For few doth know of virtue, 
Though upon it they are built;
They let the flesh corrupt their souls,
And then they hide from guilt. 

And they enter in a contract
With their dragons and their vice,
That if none would speak the truth
Then surely none will pay the price,

But this contract is made void 
By the Universal Reason,
For in this rulebook it’s written
That none gets away with treason!

But still, they march along 
T’ward their soul’s impending doom, 
And they see not through the clutter
Of their dark, chaotic room.

And they teach to all their children
Of this dream which they assume,
And these children are now spellbound—
Straight from Mother Nature’s womb.

They grow up knowing nothing 
But the dream to them assigned, 
And they listen not to Wisdom,
And, to virtue, they are blind.

Their hearts die in resentment,
And they leave the truth behind, 
And they’ll never taste of glory
For their souls are not Aligned.

And they lie and cheat and murder, 
And they even take it further,
For the pain of their existence 
Must be spread the whole world through,

But before thou judge their failings
Or point out all their derailings,
Let this Wisdom fill thy heart:
Thou art just a human, too.

And doth not thy Mother Nature,
In Her constant quest for beauty,
Cast into a fiery furnace 
All who will not do their duty?

And if thou wilt not escapeth 
From this dream to save thy life,
Will thy Mother not rebuke thee?
Will She not inflate thy strife?

So before thou judge thy nation,  
And before thou judge thy state, 
And before thou judge thy family,
And before thou judge thy fate,

Let judgement fall upon the one 
Who sits in thy control;
Cast thy judgement to the deepest depths 
Of thine own wretched soul!

For Nature teaches clearly,
If thy soul is not asleep, 
That if thou wilt live thy calling
Then, Her promises, She’ll keep.

So build within thy mind
A citadel of firm foundation,
Sitting high upon a hill 
That thou might look upon My Nation.

And Nature will provide for thee 
The tools for its construction,
For soil, air, fire, and water
Are the seeds of all production.

And this will be thy knowledge 
Of the great devouring Mother,
Who will give to thee abundance 
If thou’lt trust not in another.

And if thou wilt study Nature, 
In all Her vast, eternal glory;
If thou’lt cherish Her obstructions 
Which She’ll place within thy story;

If thou’lt listen to Her whispers;
If thou’lt work within Her bounds;
If thou’lt nourish Her creations
As thou build upon Her grounds,

Then tall will be thy watchtower 
That we build with all thy toil, 
For lofty grows the tree which starts
From seed, light, rain, and soil.

And when thy firm foundation 
Has, to Nature, been thus tied, 
Thou wilt govern o’er My Kingdom
With Great Culture by thy side.

For thy culture will provide to thee 
Deep Wisdom of the heart, 
Which will guide thy soul to freedom
As I teach thee of thy part.

And thy culture will show warnings
When it turneth from My aim,
And thy duty is to save it,
For this is the hero’s game.

For thy culture will corrupteth 
When a blind eye thou doth turn,
So be vigilant and cautious—
This Tree’s fruit can quickly turn.

And when thou hath constructed
This great citadel on high,
Using Nature as thy tower
And letting Culture occupy,

Build a wall around this structure
That it may be fortified,
With My brightly burning Logos,
E’en thy pure, eternal guide.

For I’ll guard thy gates with fury 
‘Gainst thy Mother’s swift destruction,
And I’ll save thy dying culture
When there’re faults in its construction.

I’ll fight off all the dragons 
Which are waiting at the gates,
And I’ll keep My fires burning
When thou suffereth trying fates.

For I am not of Nature
Or of Culture, but withal,
I am vigilantly watching, 
For I sit above them all.

But know that My protection  
Comes at all too high a cost—
Even all thy soul’s attention,
Lest My power soon be lost.

So build this inner citadel,
And know it in thy mind, 
And let it be thy watchtow’r,
Keeping e’en My Soul Aligned.

And build it up to Heaven,
That thy village, too, may see
That the Tree doth spread its branches
Far throughout eternity.

And when thou doth taste Alignment, 
And when thou hath seen the way,
Thou wilt have no use for words,
For, a dream, they doth not sway.

For a saviour does his saving
By the way he lives his life,
And when dreamers need a saviour
He doth lead them from their strife.

So sit here, Holy Sage,
And speak softly to Thy heart, 
And drink of all My Wisdom,
That, from Thee, I will not part.

And when Thou doth suppose  
That Thy soul might be Aligned,
Thou must go back to Thy people
And help them to, Wisdom, find.

But be not as a parrot 
Who doth loudly squawk and chatter,
For this will not save a soul,
And Thy labour will not matter.

But be Thou as a phoenix 
Who doth rise up from the flames,
Leaving all Thy vice to smoulder,
Letting Logos set Thy aims!

For this is how a saviour 
Saves the people of his village, 
So be Thou as a saviour,
Lest Thy Mother start Her pillage.”

The Sage’s eyes were opened 
By the words which He had heard, 
And His heart was full of Wisdom—
Gained from every single word.

And He sat below the fig tree, 
And He ate the ancient fruit, 
And He looked upon the fountain 
Which had fed His soul’s pursuit.

And He sat there for eternity, 
Growing wiser every day, 
And He sits there even now,
Hoping to, his thoughts, convey

To a wise and careful student 
Who would use this Wisdom well,
Who would aim at truth and virtue,
And who’s vice he’d set to quell.

And as I sit here writing
In this cabin on the plains—
As I think about this Holy Sage
Who, in my dream, remains—

My soul doth seek adventure, 
And it calls me to the hills, 
And it says, “Go! Fight thy dragons,
Using all thy might and skills!”

And I wonder: if I venture to the 
Place where He doth sit, 
And if truth and virtue guide me,
And if, vice, my soul doth quit;

If I set to fight my dragons 
As they stop me on my way;
If I build my inner citadel,
That I’ll be not led astray;

If I build my tow’r to Heaven,
Reaching grand eternal heights;
If I sit beside this Holy Sage
In all my days and nights,

Will He share of all the Wisdom
Which He’s gathered over time?
Will He teach me of Alignment?
Will I feel of it, sublime?

Will He make of me a saviour,
That, my people, I may save?
Or will all be just a dream 
That floateth softly on a wave?

“Surely,” speaks my soul,
“There’s but one way thou might know,
So venture to the distant hills,
And let His Wisdom flow.”

1. The leaders of the village listened to the words of the Poet, and they did see how his words affected the people who listened, for many cried, and many were awoken from their dream. And many saw that all was a dream, and they did marvel at the sound of the Poet’s words, for they were true, and they were beautiful, and they pointed in the direction of Alignment.
2. And many did cry unto the Poet, saying, “We thank thee, Great Poet! Thy truthful words have saved many on this day!”
3. And others did beseech him, saying, “Great Poet, wilt thou not speak more to us, that we might taste of Alignment, even as thou hath? Thy words do pierce our hearts, and we see much! But what else hath thou to say? Let us fill our cups once more with the Wisdom thou wouldst share!”
4. The Poet was grateful that the words he spoke did penetrate the hearts of those who listened, and he spoke unto the people, saying, “Surely I hear your requests, though I have no more poems to recite. But lo, all ye who have heard, and all ye who have seen, and all ye who have felt, meet me on the morrow by the great lake where the plains meet the distant hills, and there I will show ye the way, for it is as a shining beacon for those who know and for those who see. Meet me there before the Sun doth rise, for then shall all be revealed.”
5. In that moment, one of the leaders spoke aloud to the people, saying, “This man has deceived all of you, and he shall be ruler over your minds no more! Upon the morrow we shall gather here and decide his fate!
6. And I say, also, to ye who decide to go with him in the morning: ye are fools among men, for ye cannot see what a charlatan he is! But when all of you return, then shall we be judges over him, and over you.
7. And to thee, Poet: this is thy bail, that if thou shouldst leave this village forever, then it will be good with us, and thy life shall be spared. But if thou wouldst return with those fools who follow thee, then by our hands shall thy fate be decided.”
8. The Poet knew what was to come, and he feared not, for he walked on the path of Alignment, and his words were true, and he had saved many on that day.