Trees, machines, souls
all have some which are white as snow
or black as coal.
Trees, machines, souls,
each one of their hearts,
rotten and whole
the King knows.
Old Souls, Builders, and Scarecrows
will not to the dark heart of the Enslaved bow
but will arm the children
with bows and arrows.
Trees, Machines, and Souls,
Old Souls, Builders and Scarcrows
one and the same,
the neutral must change
no longer able to ignore
the Enslaver’s pain.
The good must stand
by the scarecrow and his brothers
The unborn, rejected by their parents must rise.
The Enslaved, and the coal black hearts of the Guardians
must be fought,
must be stopped.
The Saviours can save one,
but backed by Old Souls and Builders,
Scarecrows could stand in the breech for many.
– Icicle Rain, by Abby Jones
(Poetry isn’t my strong point. I started off with a bit of a rhyming rhythm and it just changed into lines of prose. That’s pretty typical for me. This bit of whatever it is describes some of the classes in my Work-in-progress Icicle Rain. Icicle Rain is a young adult novel mixing elements of Steam Punk, western, and fairy tale. I hope to work with my cousin over at Oregon Curiosity Shop on some of the Steam Punk aspects. )