The horse called sun parades the sky,      and canters dawn till dusk. Her destination like her start.      The land she braves a husk. The lift that once with sceptre ruled,      now hangs precariously. A vestige of triumphant past;      a tone without a key. Mistakes were made: our human choice.      Our greatest gift of all. Was also where temptations lay      and paved the say for fall....

We sit with fire between ourselves,      a guardian so to speak. He tempers tempers expertly;      gives courage to the meek. For minutes long I stare at her,      the secrets age her face. For now she contemplates the status quo      that we'll displace. I sense she waits for me to speak,      for 'tis often hard to start. Preferring she to follow      after horse akin to cart....

I stay awake until the stars      have melted from the sky. The moon attacked lies dead above.      A sight to horrify. Yolanda lays in state of rest,      fatigued from conversation. The weight at last now lifted,      leaves the girl in calm sedation. Yet myself I feel belligerent;      taut and ill at ease. Her explanations anger me,      which spreads like rife disease. That man, her father, riles me so....

"No!" I scream and run to her,      but agents arms restrain. Emotions swirl inside of me      like angry hurricane. And then a laugh so guttural,      so fierce and over-vile, ends humiliation      with an ugly rotten smile. Yolanda pants, her breathing fast.      A blank? A rouse. A game! Perpetrated by a man      without an inch of shame. He lifts his boot and now to floor...

The day was spent conversing,      exploring mutual ground. The landscape of a place called trust      that ne'er a queen was crowned. It seems no love for Bertholdt,      this crew would e'er display. Intent on ending Red Cell      for their part in Earth's decay. It strikes me odd, this band of men      with us in tense alliance. Furthering each others needs,      under watch of forced compliance....

I watch the reapers ready packs;      their practised moves precise. A state of preparation      to assault his paradise. Bertholdt's lair Yolanada razzed      except the undergrounds. Where copies of the leader lurk      and densely Earth surrounds. The abstract place his soul frequents,      is further to the East. Marcus and his squadron set      to end this wretched beast. The girl and I will find my key,...

I wake with body shaking      but the cold is not the cause. I blink to gain some clarity      and petition mind to pause. Her fingers grip me tightly      as the sounds come slowly in, overriding silence      and replacing calm with din. At first I do not want to wake,      a slow but steady dream. I drift above my consciousness      until that curdled scream....

It hits its mark and shatters true.      The daggers fill the air. But an instinct ne'er I knew possessed,      displaced my soul elsewhere. My body mirrored movements      with a groggy obligation. A loyal slave to a master      without a moments hesitation. I hear relief above me,      so palpable and thick. It leaves a grin upon my face,      that I could act so quick....

"Cartesian," the first one says.      "Bemused," exclaims the next. These words the ones that once before,      left every neuron vexed. "Incorrigible," comes quick as last,      my mind is still intact, but then begins the onslaught      of my fragile mind; attacked. It hurts, the pain, Dear God, please stop.      I push through fog to think. He drops me to my knees      as muted muscles let me sink....

I look around the silent room,      the Bertholdts too collapsed. As well as Marcus and his crew;      their bill for life elapsed. And I alone sit on the floor,      confused and ill at ease. As I petition to the Lord,      "Help me Father, please!" The tears start, my eyes ablur,      the images distilled. Composed of simple shapes and too      with basic colours filled....