Once in the sunny month of May
        on an island far away
          there was a strange meeting
          while animals were eating
        by the edge of a sparkling bay

      A blackbird sat near a tree
        which was as dark as a tree could be
          Because of its black bark
          none could see a bird so dark
        as it watched the animals by the sea

      "What big teeth they have got,"
        the blackbird had thought
          when down from above
          came a little white dove
        which landed near the blackbirds spot

      The bright flash of white
        had caught an animal's sight
          and quickly it ran
          across the yellow sand
        with its big teeth ready to bite

      "Look out,"  the blackbird had said
        then the dove turned its head
          in just enough time to see
          that it must quickly flee
        or else it would soon be dead

      So into a tree the dove flew
        and then the blackbird did too
          "Thanks,"  the dove said,
          "I would have been dead
        if had not been for you."

      The blackbird said, "Your problem,  you see
        is that you should look more like me.
          When I am on the ground
          I cannot easily be found
        and in this I think you'll agree."

      Then the dove laughed out loud,
        "Of my color I am proud.
          When I fly
          up high in the sky
       I blend right in with the clouds."

      The blackbird shook his head,
        "You are mistaken,  friend,"  he said
          "In flying high,  you're the best
         but all birds must surely rest.
       It is better to be my color instead."

      Again the dove disagreed,
        "Though we must go down to feed
          we live in nests up high
          and we fly in the sky,
        a different color I do not need."

      He said,  "If you come with me
        then maybe you will see
          and know why
          that where I fly
        white is the best color to be."

      So off together they flew
        to find out if this was true
          They flew up high
          into the big sky
       where everything is white and blue

      Up there an eagle did fly
        and the color black caught his eye
          so he flew at what the saw
          and spread out his giant claws
        and he let out a loud terrifying cry

      Suddenly the little black bird
        turned toward the sound he heard
          and then he knew
          there was nothing to do
        against such a gigantic bird

      Though fast he did fly
        the blackbird was about to die
          when out of a cloud above
          came the little white dove
        and put its claws in the eagle's eyes

      Together away they sped
        and then the dove had said
          "Now you know
          that where I go
        it is better to be white instead."

      The blackbird said,  "I agree
        and I think that I finally see
          that either black or white,
          neither is wrong or right
        and which ever you are is best to be

     "I am King!",  I bellow until the sound echoes
       off the somber castle walls
      Filled to the brim with wine and self-adoneration
        I stumble away in search of a bed

     The music of lutes plays somewhere off
       beyond my blurred candle lit vision
      Behind the merriment and muse lie the whispered treasons
        of the endless plotting for my throne

     Surrounded by guards,  I pause to relieve myself
       of the evenings excessive liquids
      Quickly the dampness, cold like death, encompasses
        every pore of my regal being

     In a cathedral-sized room covered with fine tapestries
       I pass out upon a silken bed
      Soon however,  I am abruptly awakened
        by the feel of cold steel on my brow

     Alone and in a drunken stupor I face my opponent
       knowing full well the futility of a plea
      Young and foolish,  and every bit as arrogant as me
        he savors the taste of the kill

     In an act of desperation I grab at his knife
       but then it is free,  then in my stomach
      As I lay helplessly dying within my fortress
        I know security is but a dream

  In a kingdom long ago
    there lived a pompous king
   who loved his gold and silver
     and pretty fancy little things

  This king was a powerful king
    who controlled many lands
   Mountains and forests and deserts,
     his kingdom was truly grand

  His subjects too were many,
    and different languages they spoke
   All were different and special,
     strong yet peaceful folk

  The beauty of his kingdom
    was wealth the king didn't understand
   He wanted it all for himself,
     he wanted to hold it in his hands

  He cut down all of the forests
    for more wood to be sold
   He tore up all of the flowers
     and used them to buy gold

  The king made the people work
    from the morning until late at night
   He made them make pretty little things
     that he could place within his sight

  He turned away the rivers
    to make waterfalls and water wheels
   but then the food got scarce
     as the sun dried up the fields

  Soon the people grew sick
    from too much work and no food
   but the king did not care
     while expensive candies he chewed

  Then the king heard talk of a dragon
    setting fire to the fields
   so he sent men off to kill it
     and he gave them armor and shields

  The king got back a letter
    and this was all that it said;
   'We have seen no dragons but...
     the fields are burned and the people, dead.'

  The king grew afraid of the dragon
    and put an army inside the castle walls
   He took more food from the peasants
     for bigger feasts in his giant halls

  Again the king moved the river
    for a moat to keep the dragon away
   He built fountains and a pool
     in which he alone could play

  Without water the fields grew dry
    and the farmers came asking for more
   The king told them not to ask
     for things which they couldn't pay for

  Soon giant fires swept the land
    and men left to find the dragon
   They had searched everywhere
     but the dragon disappeared again

  The king got very angry
    and wished the dragon would die
   His kingdom lay in ruins
     and the king began to cry

  That night while he dreamed
    a dragon came to him and said,
   'Oh,  what a fool art thee
     to wish to see me dead!'

  The dragon picked the king up
    and out the window they flew
   but the dragon would not say
     where it was he was flying to

  He carried the king far away
    to where the river used to flow
   Now the ground was so dry
     no more food could ever grow

  'This is your doing,  not mine,'
    the dragon finally said,
   'The water used to grow food
     but now it fills your fountains instead.'

  The dragon flew over houses
    where people used to live
   He said,  'They'd be here still
     if you didn't take and never give.'

  Above where the forests were
    the dragon brought the king
   'All of the animals are now gone,' he said,
     'for your want of precious things.'

  Above the entire kingdom
    the dragon flew on and on
   He said,  'You love beautiful things
     but now they are almost gone.'

  'Your wealth is truly expensive,
    it cost us all this,'  the dragon said
   as he returned to the castle
     to put the king the back to bed

  Before he left,  the dragon said
    'It is too bad that you couldn't see
   without needing me to tell you
     that the dragon was you,  not me.'

  It was then that the king got the wish
    that earlier that night he had said
   for it was then that the king died
     and the dragon was truly dead

  The king might have lived
    if only he had known
   that the best things you have
     are the things that you can't own

    I met a weary traveler
      as the day was nearing its end
     I asked him if he traveled far
       but he couldn't remember from where or when

    All that he knew was he'd been traveling
      and come tomorrow he'd be traveling still
     He did not know where or why he was going
       but he knew he had a need his journey would fulfill

    I was curious that he carried no baggage
      so I asked him why he chose to travel so light
     He told me he had no need of possessions
       To keep them,  said he,  one must be prepared to fight

    I walked with him for a short time
      and asked if he knew when his journey would be through
     He said that it would end where he ends
       at that time when there is nothing more he can do

    It grew late and I took my leave of him
      for there were people who would soon miss me
     I had realized while I was walking home
       though I never travel,  I am on the same journey as he

    Torn and tattered were his clothes
      and his face,  like a well worn overgrown trail,
     inspired polite respect with a twinge of fear
       in the people whom he passed as his soul set sail
      to find some wondrous place to finally rest
        and upon that day he felt it drawing ever near

    It was the fourteenth day of December
      when his feet first carried him into the town
     where he would meet the strangest of fates
       and revel in the wake of the unseen forces that abound
      between the reality of day and the darkness of night
        which draw one unknowingly into the eeriest of states

    In an little old inn on the edge of town
      the wayfarer stopped for warmth and a drink
     but this was no ordinary inn as he soon found out
       for the innkeeper had devious eyes which would wink
      whenever the wayfarer thought something was strange
        and the walls themselves seemed to scream or shout

    Intrigued by the strangeness of the place
      the daring traveler decided to stay the night
     but after making a quick check of his room
       his eyes caught flash of a hideous sight
      of a wolf standing bloodied over a mutilated body
        and when the brief vision ended, he felt impending doom

    Hurriedly,  he splashed his face wet 
      in a water basin at the end of the hall,
     his heart racing at the marvel he had seen
       driving him to take some action or to call
      for help from some sorcerer,  demon,  or god
        to help him vanquish this terrible dream

    Once again in the inn's tavern
      he instead chose food to regain his composition
     for he felt that he would need all his senses
       to do battle with the demonic apparition
      that lay waiting for him in his room
        yet also in some other world behind unseen fences

    He felt its presence even then
      as he ate in an attempt to gain strength,
     he felt it chiding to him to run while he could
       but he did not listen to it at any length,
      just long enough to know it was still there
        and that if it could destroy him it surely would

    The man at the bar let out a laugh
      that sounded as deranged as its meaning was unclear
      but before he left the room in a frenzied delight
        he had pointed to the wayfarer sitting demure
       and said nothing though the meaning was clear
         in that he was a fool for not feeling proper fright

    Alone in the room of the wolf
      he sat expectantly upon a wooden chair
     and with his gun at his side and knife in hand
       he waited for something or someone to be there
      but though the feeling grew ever more intense
        nothing appeared that he could see or understand

    Soon he began to grow tired
      yet the more that he gave into this tide
     the more invigorated he felt himself become
       until he lay wide awake on the other side
      where the wolf lay waiting in a field of green
        and the light of the moon was now the sun

    He stood up and gave chase to the wolf
      although he was no longer certain why
     for this world was certainly not like his own
       as it had orange plants and a bright pink sky
      and as he grew nearer to the fleeing wolf
        he realized it was unlike any he had known

    The ominous hatred and venomance
      which he had sensed back at the inn
     no longer present in this strange new place
       though still he felt driven to purge this sin,
      this horrible abomination incarnate in the wolf
        seeming so near that he could sense its foul taste

    Then the wolf grew tired at last
      and turned to face the wayfarer's approach
     yet it did not show any sign of fear
       nor did it turn hostile when he drew close,
      instead it quietly awaited its impending fate
        as the hunter flung himself at it like a spear

    The wayfarer's confusion grew still
      when the wolf seemed to vanish in the air
     but the feelings still had hold of him
       and as he fled across the plains in despair
      he noticed that his body had disappeared
        while he ran within the wolf's own skin

    Over the next hill he came across a man
      whom he vaguely noticed was himself
     and as the man began to shudder back
       the man-wolf felt the fear rise in itself
      growing stronger until both were one
        at the moment its teeth gnashed open his neck

    Screaming,  the man was again in the room
      far too shaken to think of anything's meaning
     as he packed his things and hurried away
       into the darkness of that fateful evening
      when worlds collided for one man never known
        except for the footprints in the snow never shown

          The moment of truth appeared
            within the blink of an eye
           as I solemnly raised my gun
             before my quavering victim

          The Executioner of Justice
            is the name I chose long ago
           and that far off day gone by
             is suddenly thrust before my eyes

          Was it my passion for life
            or some perverse taste for death
           that made me love the work
             which came to dominate my life

          This kill will not come easy
            and this face before me
           shall not be quietly put to rest
             in my tortured silent nights

          This time I cannot believe
            that this tragedy is just
           and the innocent eyes before me
             reflect the truth of my task

          Countless times before I could have questioned
            but instead I chose to remain ignorant
           of the manipulations of the halls of justice
             that determine who shall live or die

          This time it was too blatant,
            an example to be made,
           a statement of brutal blindness
             to keep the rank and file in line

          Right and wrong are dissolving
            in my long inactive mind
           and the fresh wind that blows
             is filled with condemnation

          My hand begins to violently shake
            and the gun grows heavy within
           as if the weight of my deeds
             are now alive in my instrument of death

          An explosive turmoil erupts within
            as I am faced with countless questions
           of life and truth and fate and lies
             and of my own inevitable demise

          The forces ripping me apart are great
            but the solution is so near and easy
           and in an instant later it is over
             as the echoes of the shot die in the air

          My eyes grow dim and my heart heavy
            as I watch the body hit the floor
           and I convince myself I will survive
             the haunting truth my soul had seen

        In medieval days of nightmarish lore
          when the unspeakable occurred
         far too often for any to keep score
           there was a abomination vested
          upon a town which knows no fame
            save for being the birthplace
           of the Cauldron of Fontaine

        Made from the iron of thirty swords
          that took the souls of scores of men
         the blackened pot would feed the hoards
           of those who served the darkness
          and reveled in the terror vexed upon Man,
            taking great pleasure from each atrocity
           their demonic leader would command

        The deeds of this troupe defy telling
          without disturbing the sensibilities
         of those who find righteousness compelling
           so it should suffice for me to say
          that the results of their debauchery boiled
            in an evil mixture in that cauldron
           as the dignity of humanity was forever soiled

        The village once known as Fontaine
          was peaceful before those days,
         before the devil called Raven came
           in a firestorm of reckless abandon
          asking for followers to seize the day,
            to profit from the confusion,
           to take all and make heaven pay

        In desperate times such as these
          men were all too willing
         to follow one who did as he pleased
           fearing neither the wrath of God
          nor the formidable armies of kings
            that were heralding forth another age
           for which chivalry valiantly sings

        Twisted was Raven's maniacal mind
          bent upon a life everlasting
         and so unrelenting was he to find
           the key to achieving this hopeless dream
          that he dared leave no stone unturned
            until immortality was his prize
           and its secrets were at last learned

        Fools always follow where greed leads
          and in those days of long ago
         that road was known as alchemy,
           where science and mysticism joined
          and produced a mutated child
            which died attempting to tame
           a world where blind instinct ran wild

        Raven was convinced that this was the way
          that he could at last be immortal
         and forever postpone his judgment day
           so the dreaded cauldron was conceived
          to concoct that elixir of eternal life
            made from the fluids of life and death
           taken ceremoniously with a lethal knife

        Blood flowed endlessly for years hence
          as more villagers became convinced
         that the Angel of Death could now be fenced
           leaving them free to live lives of lust
          without fear of any final hereafter
            until one by one they all met the blade
           to the tune of Raven's menacing laughter

        Decrepit and fast turning gray,
          Raven realized his failure far too late
         as he too lived to see the day
           when he was chosen as a sacrifice
          to feed the younger who gained claim
            upon his legacy of unbridled brutality
           justly giving him taste of the same

        Though they all now wear death's chains,
          as a monument to those dark days
         an undistinguished black pot still remains
           for on a museum shelf behind a glass case
          sits the Cauldron of Fontaine
            as a relic from another world
           achieving Raven's pitiful aim

    In an unwashed somewhat opaque window
      a vacancy sign dangles as if anyone really cares
     for out on the windswept streets
       of this dusty dingy little town
      it was a might rare when anyone cared to stay awhile

    Yet even the most unlikely events will someday happen
      and one day one particular woman decided she needed
     one of those unwanted rooms
       which waited day after day in vain
      to serve any purpose other than taking up space gathering dust

    The immensity of Texas looms larger ever yet
      whence viewed from a room only slightly bigger than closets
     and such was her sight
       as she awoke the very next day
      to find herself where so few had longed to be

    With an energy that seemed greatly out of place there
      she bounded through her morning routine zestfully
     eager to broach upon a new life
       in a town more comfortable with slow death
      languishing in the loss of industry,  its youth,  and interest

    Though the spirit of the town was gravely ill
      this detered that young woman not one single bit
     as she made haste to find the saloon
       and declare to the owner its stark void
      of a singer as beautiful and talented as she said of she

    Having had her perform and seeing nothing new
      he decined her offer with another one of his own,
     that of waiting on tables
       paying barely minimum wage
      plus a percentage of her tips less what he kept himself

    In too mean a dispostion to refute his offer entirely
      she accepted given the chance she could one day perform
     before what here passed for a crowd
       in a corner saloon where no one came
      except when passing through save they who called it home

    The regulars at that place were anything but
      as each seemed a character frozen from another time
     as a partial list included the likes
       of an aged gangster from prohibition,
      a box toting peddler of old, and a gypsy complete with ball

    It was there the young siren came to be day to day
      serving drinks to those who often wished to be elsewhere,
     she included though on this fact
       she knew better than to let her mind dwell
      while doing her best to do what little was expected of her

    On a busy night comprised of all of fifteen people
      the owner gave her the chance to perform her songs
     from a slightly out of tune piano
       there for the occasional drundard
      to bang out a few poorly sung half-forgotten drinking songs

    With a voice too fine for such a rough crowd
      as the rowdies who dominate the place every Saturday night,
     the lilting melody of true harmony
       was drowned out by cat calls and jests
      which shook the very core of her unflinching fortitude

    With her spirit dimmed as bleak as her surroundings
      she cried her heart out in that tiny lifeless hotel room
     lit momentarily by the vigor of youth
       driven to pursue necessary dreams,
      hoping to rise above those personal straits surrounding them

    Again empty the next day, the room was cleaned
      now ready to begin that long wait for a tenant
     to seek what little recompense
       that such a barren room has to offer
      set in the middle of whatever circumstances one finds oneself

   As I look to the open sea
     I wonder what might await me
    if I could force open fate's doors
      and find myself on distant shores

   I fancy I might soon set sail
     away from my earthbound jail
    toward a place where I can be free
      and shun all the chains of duty

   I would find a land of paradise
     free from all malice and vice
    where every action comes from love,
      truly a model for any heaven above

   Soon though,  I must turn away
     and return to the toils of my day
    but I hope someday someone will find
      that such a place lies not just in my mind

 Of all the great legends
   which ever were
  no name rings truer
    than that of the mighty Vestabur
   who gave all for nothing
     chasing humanity's forgotten cure

 In the land of Vikings
   during the most violent of ancient days
  this strongest of warriors wept
    for man's seemingly eternal malaise
   which pitted man against man
     and goodness against stronger selfish ways

 Finding none who were worthy
   of his inestimable prowess of force
  he then sailed off alone
    letting fate decide his course
   driven by a sense of uneasiness
     and determined to find its source

 For fourteen lonely days
   and fifteen turbulent nights
  no glimpse of sunlight broke the clouds
    and no sign of land reached his sights
   until at last upon that final day
     he saw mountains of astonishing heights

 The mountains reached right to the sea
   barren of any form of living thing,
  so empty and gray and desolate
    no comfort did its appearance bring
   with such an endlessly imposing facade
     that even the sea birds no longer did sing

 Hungry and weary from his journey,
   Vestabur hastened to go ashore
  but little respite did he receive
    as his hands became bloodied and sore
   trying to climb those rugged cliffs
     which appeared to go on forever more

 After what seemed an eternity,
   he reached the top of a peak
  only to be confronted
    by a winged creature that could speak
   which had hovered before him
     and asked him what he seeked

 A dragon some would call it 
   though dragons were not so small
  for this scaly quite ugly sprite
    stood no more than three feet tall
   and because of its tiny wings,
     one wondered how it flew at all

 Vestabur thought for a bit
   and then said, "To end my pain
  for I am tired,  cold,  and hungry
    and am quickly becoming lame
   as I have traveled long and hard
     only to find nothing gained."

 After a long pause of suspicion
   the creature looked wary and replied,
  "A bed and shelter and food,
    these things I can easily provide
   but surely thou travels not for these
     for everywhere these comforts reside."

 The warrior let out a thunderous laugh
   and said, "Thou art a wise sprite
  for seeing deeper than I might wish
    but thou art most certainly right
   in that I seek relief of a deeper pain
     than one can name or hold in sight."

 He continued, "If thou wouldst comfort me
   with the provisions that thou didst say
  I would be in thy gravest debt
    and shall be most eager to repay
   by naming my pain as yet untold
     if it pleaseth thee for me to say."

 It was early the following morning
   when Vestabur awoke invigorated and refreshed
  that he told the sprite his woeful tale
    of how the worst in Man destroyed the best
   and it was then that he heard the prolific words
     which would set him upon his greatest quest

 The creature spoke in a low solemn tone,
   "Thy vision is true and thy heart is pure
  for there is a plague of greed upon the land
    by which Man is poisoned and cannot long endure
   but all hope has not yet been lost
     for there is a place which covets the cure."

 "Devils be damned and heavens praised,"
   Vestabur abruptly and joyfully exclaimed,
  "A thousand blessings be upon thee
    if thou wouldst only speak the name
   of that place which has come to possess
     such an auspicious claim to fame."

 "Mubarakk," the winged creature said
   as it began to fly out of his sight,
  "Sail in the direction of the setting sun
    for a hundred days and nights,
   turn back for no one and nothing
     and never give into your fright."

 Slowly Vestabur made his way down
   the dangerous steep mountain's edge
  working his way away from the house
    that the creature had built upon a ledge
   with his mind dwelling upon the words
     the strange creature had last said

 The fury of the seven seas
   hath no fury like that of a man possessed
  to achieve that one goal or reward
    that he knows in his heart to be the best,
   not for himself but for his whole world
     and Vestabur was driven by nothing less

 Through the harshest of storms he sailed
   unrelentingly plodding on toward some place
  where he knew he would be gravely taxed
    in a test which could affect his whole race
   so he bore the worst the sea could give
     and he swore he would not act in haste

 During a rare moment of peace and calm
   he happened upon a lush tropical isle,
  a garden of endless sensual delights
    radiating a joy that could make the devil smile
   so it was here that he stopped for more supplies
     and a place where he could rest for awhile

 Words cannot describe the beauty of that place
   or of the friendliness people there had showed
  upon the storied stranger weak and frail
    half starved and half crazed by his chosen road
   to rid the world of its evil and its pains
     that some unseen god or demon ungraciously bestowed

 But here there was no hate or selfishness
   and the world he left behind seemed to fade away,
  just a nightmare that lingered in some twilight time
    forgotten but not leaving its importance betrayed
   as it clamored to him in his restless troubled sleep
     and its resolve in hope there too vice could be allayed

 And the love that had been denied to him before
   came to him in that wonderful enchanted place
  in the guise of the beauty Mirimaney Kondessay
    who embodied the purest of virtue, love, and grace
   with the glimmer of a thousand stars within her eyes
     and a radiance as great as the sun within her face

 Here was contentedness and here was untold joy
   which he had never dreamed could be before
  yet deep within he knew he'd never see again
    for he knew that this place was merely a door
   to be passed through and left behind forever
     and that more pains of the past lay in store

 Though this hurt was far deeper than any others,
   Vestabur left quietly during one calm night
  again sailing toward the land of the setting sun
    cursing himself for being too weak to ignite
   courage enough to bid farewell his new bride
     and still be able to continue on with his plight

 Five weeks hence, his supplies again exhausted
   he found another island to look for food to eat
  but no land of paradise was this evil isle
    as death lay everywhere eager to meet
   this giant of a man who dared enter the domain
     of the Banu tribe with painted hands and feet

 In the shank of the evening the blood bath erupted
   as Vestabur awoke to them attacking him one by one
  yet each time he triumphed, another foe lay vanquished,
    and over a hundred lay dead before the dying was done
   when ten men rushed him cracking his skull
     for as the mighty Vestabur fell the battle was won

 When he awoke he found himself tied
   upon a yoke of precious metals lined with jewels
  in the hall of a gigantic luxurious marble palace
    among sculptures carved by the finest artisan's tools,
   displayed along beside them atop a high ledge
     being gawked at by a court filled with noble fools

 From his perch he could look down and see 
   the story of the kingdom unfold beneath his eyes
  as the monarch sat upon a throne of the finest jade
    doling out the most incredulous of lies
   eagerly consumed by a nation taught only obedience
     caring not that they had no will to compromise

 Thrice daily he would be washed and fed
   serving no more purpose than that of a living statue
  declaring to all the power of the emperor
    which his bound and helpless state showed true
   yet only his body lay confined and constrained
     while his mind raced to uncover any opportunity cue

 For the first time in his victory filled life
   Vestabur was held prisoner like some animal in a cage
  removed from the freedoms he had always known
    and daily he held witness to his mounting rage
   at the atrocious abuses of power going on below
     which were affecting him more than he could ever gauge

 As he saw even mere children condemned to die
   for deeds done by their parents or other kin
  he vowed he would rid this world of this tyrant
    before resuming the task long ago did he begin
   believing nothing he could do could ever surpass
     this victory over viciousness which he had to win

 After the trials which always ended up executions,
   Emperor Kyrik would stand alone in this hall
  admiring his statues and opulent ornaments
    gloating over having the power of death over all
   and one day he spoke to Vestabur shackled high above,
     "Thy head from thy neck might as easily fall!"

 "Thou wouldst suffer far more than me
   for I knowst a place of untold treasure,"
  Vestabur answered,  "and beauty far greater
    than could give such a beast as thee pleasure
   for the wealth of this place surmounts all 
     that thou has is this hall or could measure."

 "And all I must do to have this marvelous wealth
   is to set thee free I supposeth,"  the emperor said,
  "yet I be not the fool thou thinkst I am
    for only moments later I wouldst surely be dead
   though I thinkst thou speaketh the truth
     so I shall send out my armies to search instead."

 Moments later the emperor returned to the hall
   where Vestabur stood consumed by his flaming hate
  for the man who now predicted complete success
    in plundering all wealth as his armies would devastate
   all peoples weaker be they near or far away
     and as he said so Vestabur realized it was too late

 Suddenly he was struck with a vision
   of the island of boundless beauty and grace
  being raped of the riches it shone forth,
    the kindness and the love too strong to erase
   would doom them to be destroyed one and all
     as the vipers poisoned that wondrous place

 As the emperor laughed far below
   Vestabur saw him directly beneath the ledge
  and summoning all the strength left in him
    he tipped the stone stockade using his foot as a wedge
   tilting it forward inch by inch as his foot crushed
     until at last the stone and he tumbled over the edge

 He awoke upon a gallows before a crowd
   shouting curses at him for killing the emperor,
  no joy did they have for being set free
    as they began to stone the mighty Vestabur
   and the reasons why he craved that death
     were so tainted by this he could no longer remember

 "These fools shall never become free,"
   Vestabur thought as he prepared to die,
  "for they haveth no meaning or goals in life
    save for those given by some ruler up high
   and such as being as me wouldst never be
     forced or force others to live out such a lie."

 Bracing himself for the final yank nearing,
   he felt proud for having the chance to have been
  and he feared not death nor pain nor loss
    for he knew that this was not his true end
   because his quest was still not near resolution
     meaning he still would be though knowing not when

 He saw the coming events proceed in stills,
   like photographs or like cards taken out of deck,
  when the trapdoor fell and chaos ensued
    while the rope snapped close around his strong neck
   seeing lightening strike the crowd around him
     then seeing the whole scene fall to a distant speck

        End of Part One

        Vestabur-  Conclusion (middle parts missing)

 How Vestabur had come to arrive there
   I doubt that anyone could truly say
  and where exactly there might have been
    could easily go unknown for a million more days
   so sadly I am left merely able to say
     that at long last Vestabur had found his way

 This isle was a perfect circle with a solitary peak
   which rose forth from the center and ending in a cloud
  but no joy came from his mighty heart as it raced
    with a ferocitiy such that he thought it echoed out loud
   and a solemn melencholy gripped his whole being
     fearing the cloud above was his eternal shroud

 Driven by forces too powerful to dare resist
   he laughed as he pondered his very first fear,
  that of reaching the end of his long troubled journey,
    not of failing but of the success now drawing near
   and that vague notion of a final resolution
     made him shake violently as its meaning became clear

 No more venturing would be should he succeed
   in ridding the world of all ails and ills
  as his meaning dissolved before the face of the resolve
    that drove him here and would carry him up that hill
   which cursed his success and dared him to leave
     while he still knew who he was,  knowing he could be still

 But fear could have no hold over him
   and he let the sensation run its course and go
  as he slowly made his way toward the town
    that his visions of forebearance quickly let him know
   would await him at the foot of that mount
     and would surprise him with an unexpected foe

 Pleasant were the people of this remote town
   eager to meet and greet this great stranger,
  so accomodating and polite,  he was so entralled
    and taken aback by this kindness he saw no danger
   in dalying for a time to repay their generous hospitality
     when asked to stay awhile and tend to their manger

 Strange animals he found in that pristine barn
   where he came to work to tend their stout stock,
  healthy and boisterous and so uncannily attuned
    to service that he had but to think to command a flock
   of sheep which went daily to a meadow undistinguished
     but for an errily glowing pile of mountain rocks

 There at dusk after a hard day's work
   atop the rocks he felt free as never before
  in command of his self and his destiny
    so much so that the future he dreaded lay in store
   now seemed ameniable and even freindly to him
     smiling down on him because he dreaded it no more

 Day after day went past while he worked
   without notice of the time or the passing seasons
  that soon changed to years,  then many years
    but this seemed not to his goal to be of any treason
   for this was but a temporary stop on his journey
     and all must always be because of due reason

 Four and fourty years passed before he noticed
   how those rocks that he sat upon for so long
  were to be found in every house and every meeting place,
    and how they glowed when the townsfolk would throng
   for some festive event which celebrated each new day
     as a new era never seeing how much that view was wrong

 Time made no mark upon this forgotten place
   as generation after generation came and passed
  without making any innovation or any new creations
    to distinguish one era from the next or truths from the mask
   tradition builds to preserve all views from before
     and strives to keep any questions from being asked

 This is in all lands but nowhere else was it so clear
   as here where there was no small task ever new
  nor any thought different than those of the day before
    for even as children learned and constantly grew
   there was no dividing lines nor any individual patterns
     setting them apart from each other in what they did or knew

 Individuals had no meaning to be found here
   as all worked to serve all others without thought
  for themselves or for the betterment of others
    who shared not their secluded seemily ideal spot
   yet they did not know of the horrors that lay
     beyond their vision or of the wrongs elsewhere wrought

 Yet Vestabur found his gift of inner visions
   not to be strange nor did he find anyone astounded
  by his presence nor did they ask of where he came
    and when he spoke of the past,  they were not dumbfounded
   but would knowingly bow their head in aquiessence
     whenupon the sorrows of the outside world were sounded

 Longing to know just how much they knew
   Vestabur questioned his friend Baynu without respite
  until at last he admitted they all knew the truth
    of the world from which he had long left in flight
   and he too said the cure to all man's troubles
     lay at the top of the mountain forever in their sight

 Furious,  Vestabur lashed out in utter condemnation
   at the whole town knowingly just standing by
  doing nothing while evil lay everywhere hurting all
    while they did nothing to aid in its possible demise,
   instead languishing in the luxury of goodwill
     without the fortitude to make all of mankind so wise

 "But what of thou,"  Baynu said in a forgiving way
   "We cometh heer by our forefathers searching like thee
  and it was here that the stones lastly didst them comfort
    letting them know from their demons they be free
   not having to purge themselves of others shortcomings and sins
     and giving them peace the world beyond wouldst not let be."

 Again rekindling the fire that led him here,
   he fled the town in a fit of unseemly haste
  violently clawing his way up that mountainside
    not allowing himself chance to rethink out of fear he'd waste
   this one last chance to gain what he had come for,
     to rid life of its bile and bitterness of taste

 He climbed until he could climb no more
   frozen by the winds chiding "Death is at hand,"
  and there he most surely would have died
    had it not been for the kindness of a man
   who had made his camp near the top long ago
     in the mists of a cloud high above the land

 Small he was though he did not look frail
   and his temperment was decidedly meek
  yet Vestabur felt humbled and quite afraid
    of this man who many might think to be weak
   for the fire in his eyes and the weight of his words
     left the giant too afraid to dare speak

 Though this man did his best to reassure him,
   Vestabur could not come to feel at ease here
  for always was he the most powerful one
    yet this tiny man somehow made him to fear
   even though he knew this man meant him no harm
     making him ever more uncomfortable when he came near

 After a time he found the courage to speak
   his irrational fear to this gentle little man
  and he found himself being able to clearly express
    notions that he did not even fully understand
   while saying to this compassionate patron of help
     how he feared himself no longer in command

 The look on this stranger's face released him
   from the fear that he felt within his heart
  for Vestabur understood that this man knew
    his fears and his need to feel apart,
   to be bigger and better than all the rest
     and how he had need for them all in his heart

 "That thou wishst to serve thy people
   is honourable is didst bring thou to me
  here on thy mountain today,"  the man said,
    "as my wish to serve my people faithfully
   hast brought me here to await thee
     and to help thou learn what it is thou seeks."

 Vestabur relayed his entire life's history
   to this stranger upon a cliff high in the air
  telling him of his joys and his loves lost
    and how the whole world seemed in deep despair
   hoping that when he ended his tales of his past
     he might be told if his future lay ahead up there

 Instead the man said nothing at all
   of what Vestabur ought next to wish to do
  as he motioned toward the top of the peak
    saying, "The end is there to go if thou needst to
   but what thou may find is within thee now
     and will still be there when thy journey is through."

 With great trepidations,  Vestabur went outside
   to gaze at the peak barely visible in the pall
  seeming so near that he could be there now
    without needing to have to go there at all
   and without realizing it he was doing so,
     climbing as if answering some inner call

 Then it happened as the universe ended
   without Vestabur or the snowy mountaintop
  because it all had come to an end long,  long ago
    before the beginning with no story now to stop
   for he realized what he wanted could never be
     as his whole life fell like rain or a single teardrop

 Wanting for everyone to live in joy,
   knowing what it truly is like to live free
  was to him then and is to us in our time now
    forever to be more of a dream than reality
   as it can never be that for any who are free
     not to be able and therefore not to do,  us misery