By Order of Fire member Madison Rubin
There must be some jest that lies in fate;
that man is put on earth to create
with strong hands and back his noble state
through blood and sweat and love so great.
Crown’d by golden rays of cosmic light;
to make his kingdom from all in sight.
With body and mind and truth and right;
to guard against the approaching night.
So, watchfires to lit tapirs turn,
and the lesser men begin to yearn;
for things due them, but they did not earn.
Lo, chaos the maelstrom starts to churn.
The storms rage o’er the heads of man.
The books they pile and fires they fan.
Statues they topple and turn into sand,
and all that once was is lost to the land.
Hopes arise when the sun comes anew,
to paint o’er the dark with colors in hue;
shining its light on all that is true,
fresh to glisten in the morning’s dew.
So, smiling Father away wipes the sting.
To radiant children, gifts he does bring
From child to man, from winter to spring.
His crown placed again, making him king.
Listen to a reading of this poem on Instagram.
Images created by Jack Donovan in MidJourney AI
PH2T3R Creator and Primary Editor.
Author of The Way of Men, Becoming a Barbarian, A More Complete Beast, and Fire in the Dark.