The Runed Goat (Part 2)
The ogre let out a great laugh
the man reached for his staff
spiking ice slivered and coalesced
hovering inside a twisting rune pattern
echoing energetic morphing matter
like the clink of glass multiplied
sound expounded
thousands of spikes flashing
orbiting and mounting
clear projectiles sent piercing the night
concentrated at the ogre's black might
he charges forth
a bright green aura deflects incoming projectiles
Kiara cut back I yell
you stumble and charge energy again
see your spirit wither a little strain
I cry out to your soul though you're cold
the man is standing with his stave
facing what we thought the knave
turns in our direction and dispels
the ogre begins channeling fire and unholy sallow
hisses and burns till no light only eerie pallor
the ogre, poor soul indeed, stands transfixed
some dark role to play in this unjust destiny
retains a look of morbid curiosity
the man reaches over casts a soft glow
like plasma indigo
drifts into the ogre's aura
a giant bang and a pop
we yell out
and the most beautiful soul steps gracefully out
She crawls out from what was
the ogre sacrificed
with rune stones simmering
projecting potential for ruckus
a voice of velvet tinged grace
not sure if she's true or a fake
I wondered what other imagined
possible pathways
the ogre was only one transformation
powerful magic imagination symbolized
a goat's metamorphosis
this woman came to heal the man
who traveled alone
she raised her hand and a soft glow shone
suddenly vines and earth shook
the trees began to whine and away looked
rivers bowed their knees and sloshed over swarms of bees
we had transformed into bird's form winging above
as the ground was transformed
the man in the storm
stood atop a tall steeple
forged of sorcery and steel
products of his expressed imagination
as it all swirled like paint in your can
starts with the swish of your pen
she asked them with a look of compassion
exhortation and divine intuition
what happened to your soul?
are you a machine or a mole?
I'm neither!
he cried out in despair
was dying inside
now I've set myself free
you can come with me
not ignore reality
fly from the trees
like hawks on the wing
and every obstacle that pries
drift around for a while
until the opportunity arises
fly free again!
only lack of imagination that ties
so fly!