In the season of the Harvest,

(Or the month we now call “August”)

Young hunters spread into the cedar forest,

At the sounding of the Black Church Bell.

They were charged with the sacred task

Of tracking down and bringing back

A pregnant mother, bearing her calf,

At the divine command of Our Father, Jezequel.

For there was a legend the Priest did tell

Of a terrible beast, in a hidden realm,

That would use the womb to manifest itself,

And barrel forth, through the gates of Hell.

It could be any creature that roamed the wild,

So the hunters would gather each mother with child,

To be sure the prophecy could be stopped in time

To save the New City, our shelter and pride.

“Now follow the leader, into the woods. In the name of our fathers, the greater good.

The Beastfolk are marching, by treacherous hooves, we will cut them down, for the greater good.”

And so blood was spilled, this strange morning dew

To blanket the foliage, tearing nature in two, 

For the secret we know, that once, all were one

Is buried deep down, beneath Jezequel’s throne.

And so a sacrifice is made, in the city square, 

And children are blessed with the blood of the innocent calf,

Fingertips dipped in the elixir of life, and painted across the forehead.

I know. I know what you’re thinking.

But you have to understand

What fear and misunderstanding can spawn

In the hungry heart of man.

And I’ve told y’all before, greed is a monster, much worse than Cochineaux, the Priest’s pet prophecy.

Yes, the real beast stood before people of the New City, teaching lies.

While the truth we all know, is buried down deep

Beneath Father Jezequel’s throne.

That the birth of an animal 

Be made into ritual slaughter.

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