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Fire

  “I hear the pawsteps of the elders near!”

  “Your ears are more attuned than mine, but yet

  I do not trust your judgment to be clear.”

  The dew beneath his paws was cool and wet

  Sly passing by the final home’s rosette

  Which marked the grave of martyrs lost to thought

  And cried to Khazemil that he was caught

  “The land lies fallow, fire is no cure!”

  “You know the storehouse stands a step beyond —

  Our action must be swift, complete, and sure.”

  “Destroy the village food and then abscond,

  To hide ourselves and starve out past the pond?”

  “This time is best, the harvest taken in;

  Enough for them to live. If not now, when?”

  Resigned to watch as Merrasir began

  And making sure his paws were holding still

  The fox saw blood cascading in the plan

  Saw petals of a lonesome daffodil

  He clamped his jaw, the torch rose — “Khazemil!”

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  Behind, his father racing, scythe aloft

  Warm light before him, crackling and soft

  Much larger, sharper set, his father came

  “The dog betrays us! Move or die, my son!”

  Khazemil, smiling, let him pass the flame

  Rokhem burned in his heart; he watched them run

  The spirits rose, his world whirled and spun

  A dream? A dream? A tremor through the ground

  The sky asunder, ink vermilion-crowned

  Obsidian and blood so far away

  A muttered rolling voice above his head

  The waterfalls, the eyes, a new decay

  “You’ve fallen, Khazemil, as you were led

  My temple here was buried with the dead.

  Your lineage is short, deluded, young;

  Corrupted by the grain to which you clung.”

  The mask was growing larger, moving back

  Khazemil felt this though he saw it not

  The voice waxed vengeful, echoing in black

  “Though pleased by fire consuming sinful rot,

  I sense the price is higher than you sought.

  The fetters of your mind are dust to me,

  How then, ascend to live again, and free?”

  “The dog betrays us! Son, your eyes! Those eyes!”

  Khazemil, smiling, stepped into the path

  His fathers scythe against dark spirits’ rise

  A moment shattered, severed, welling wrath

  A moment’s desolation, aftermath

  As Merrasir swept down to catch the fox

  Infernal heat engulfing rokhem stalks

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