Canto Four ~ It is Crone’s Day and Gundhag’s dead carts arrive at the bastions of Garland Legion on the southeast wall of the capital city of Laurá Luné.
She carries with her the infant boy wrapped in rags. The wounded men upon the carts are in greater number than is her custom in bringing to the details of healers that now pour forth from the walls of Garland Command, the largest and chief of legions in the empire. It would appear she makes a point.

Should life send you wandering
out, and about at twilighttime,

your world could change immediatly
or stop cold, on a dime.

that pathway, that one chooses
will be a lesson learned,

one road will be less travelled
the other, you'll get burned.

Should this twilight force hit you
I can't emphasise, enough;

you're going to pay profusely
for your demons in the rough.

What you have to offer
gets split into two ways,

I feel the swell of your thigh
the bus motor rushing
the city swirling in lights
beyond our blue bathe
of night setting

the streetcars thick trundle
in the centre lane
the arbitrary deposit of tail
lights like lipstick blotted
in the mists

your have magic in your
veins pumping through
your heart
the bright earrings sway
the doors hiss
and the wipers bump

we will turn the clock
away on the nightstand
and listen to the music
play

the NRA's creed goes like
this "guns don't kill people,
people do", true enough but
you forgot the word intent
in your analysis as you sanctify
the second amendment right
to bear arms

i know a man who says words
don't hurt people, their reactions
do, true enough though i know
enough
to know a man's intent to
hurt and that makes all the
difference in the world