In the year 2025, twice a day hence from All Souls, the Red Birds from the desert will descend upon the fallow field of the tall hatted cattle hustlers, and will turn back to their small champion.
He shall run, and hide, fall, and miss his shots. His aim be not true. His feet will fail. The battle will bring weary eyes to the future, much gnashing of teeth will ensue. Yet, the battle be not over. At the midpoint of the battle, his leaders will draw straws. He will be banished in the second salvo of the battle, and the elder warrior will enter the fray, amidst much cheer from the audience. He will rally the troops, make a show of the battle, only to be slain at the end by the star-headed foe in a last minute gasp.
The Birds will fly home, and the small champion's reign in the nest will be at its end. The Red Birds will cry in the night, as the feasting season will end with them not feasting, nor gathering for the next harvest. They will, once again, feast not, and gather not. And they will wail, and much gnashing of teeth will ensue for weeks until the new, glorious warriors stride forth to be selected to join the Red Bird army. For the small warrior is not attainable by other armies, yet can't fight for theirs.
And the beat will go on. And on. For eternity.
He shall run, and hide, fall, and miss his shots. His aim be not true. His feet will fail. The battle will bring weary eyes to the future, much gnashing of teeth will ensue. Yet, the battle be not over. At the midpoint of the battle, his leaders will draw straws. He will be banished in the second salvo of the battle, and the elder warrior will enter the fray, amidst much cheer from the audience. He will rally the troops, make a show of the battle, only to be slain at the end by the star-headed foe in a last minute gasp.
The Birds will fly home, and the small champion's reign in the nest will be at its end. The Red Birds will cry in the night, as the feasting season will end with them not feasting, nor gathering for the next harvest. They will, once again, feast not, and gather not. And they will wail, and much gnashing of teeth will ensue for weeks until the new, glorious warriors stride forth to be selected to join the Red Bird army. For the small warrior is not attainable by other armies, yet can't fight for theirs.
And the beat will go on. And on. For eternity.
BIM
