Lore
'Twas score nights before Christmas, when all through your house
Every creature was stirring, save solely a mouse
With letter in bite, through your room he did stare
Hoping into his eyes, soon you would glare
Now caught by the green, curl and a smile
A red letter did shift, scurry, float and defile
Your eminent space, before decisions were made
Read you this letter, alone and afraid…
Dear Child,
I regret to inform you of your misgiving:
an ambivalent nature, that hones unforgiving.
But this we resolve, through acts of thanksgiving.
Thank you to children, for doing the bringing.
Who are the faithful; omnipotent penance.
These are the reverent; who know of omniscience.
Be thou obedient; least lack omnipresence.
Bring me the cause; of all stop incessance.
Seek ye the blight, cure, and the might
Then salvage that day; come home; ride, and do sleigh
Then have you your wish, of infinite bliss;
and think me remiss, for all I forbid…
Sincerely,
That (triple garden) Kid.
Now days have gone past, without a whisper or sound
Until a cornered protrusion, stuck up through the ground
Between parallel planks, from whence it was caged
Freed you this letter, alone and engaged…
Dear Fellow Children,
I apologize for the dim wit with which I took to decipher this Clause message past. Yet I write before you in earnest: act. Not for my sake or yours, but for the opportunities upon which these letters fall. How else, but by his name, could you grasp my correspondence before you. This evidence alone cements the validity of his claim, and mine.
Act. I implore thee. For this is the reign under which our years live. Act! Not because we will, but because we can; act. It is all I can; ask.
Urgently,
Some, Good Kid.
P.S.: I have maps.
Believe what you may, believe what you might
The children are coming, not by day but by night
I sent them those letters, I sent them the fight
The workshop is taken, and now it's on sight!
