into the ocean
they walk one by one
to emerge on the earth
anew again
the cycle the
metephors are real
useless beasts
their cycle circles
the world
mysterious beasts
what will their
patterns
teach
us?
from the east
we scaled
the madraenics
fierce north
most peak and
shuffled down the
harshest of the cold
north face we emerged
from the petrified forest
no food no game only
a dense collection
of black forest
trunks
there is no
sunlight here
we traveled further
through it
the trees
have tightened
here we
must move westward
for now
limok the bravest of
our tribe
spear was deflected
by their hide
the great
giant
grey
beasts pass
our big man dies
we fast