The Druid

The Druid

They say I am mad, but what do they know?
These are my forests, my swamps – every path I know
In the trunk of a great tree I live, near the roots
And every night I go to sleep as the evening owls hoot

My shapes there are many, I use but a few
To entertain myself when there is nothing to do
As a wolf I hunt, as a bobcat I walk
And should the wind I’d wish to taste, I’d be a hawk

The folk are not happy, but this is my land
They’re free to pass, and take what they can
Still, often the evil eye I get
But they’ve done nothing to me… Not yet.

Yesterday, in the village I sat
Disguised as a beautiful alley cat
When coaches painted blood red arrived
Some men in crimson robes stepped out and cried:

“Your druid is evil, infects he your woods!
Steals he your livestock, poisons your goods!
Nothing but a dirty warlock he is,
Don’t fear – we’ll defeat that magic of his…

The inquisition is here, ye folk are saved!
Hunted down the druid will be, and readily slayed!
Just show us the path, just show us the way
And for our souls in your chapel pray.”

Just as I heard this, my blood roared
Those idiots, miserable god-loving whores…
Tomorrow they’ll come, tomorrow they’ll see
What a nuisance an angry druid can be

Now I lay waiting, as a wolf with great teeth
Fools, come, try my jaws and see if you breathe
There! In the mist, a lone priest I spot
Even now my downfall he must plot

I creep through moss silent, while he crushes twigs
He wreaks from six miles like a pen of drunk pigs
I leap and I bite – muffled his scream
The eyes a predator in dark of the night gleam

His neck is now ripped – I waste no time
Blood gushing out – is this your god’s wine?
Where is your savior, your mentor, your friend?
Your god has abandoned you, alone in my forest you must fend

You’re but the first – your comrades shall fall
None will hear the morning bell toll
This night a druid hunts – there is no escape!
When you entered my forest you’ve chosen your fate!

Bodies lie ripped, entrails spilled on ground
A good meal are this god’s servants, I’ve found
Their flesh is my meal, their blood is my drink
Before entering my forest, dear fools, please deeply think

For I am the guardian, protector of Gaia
I don’t need your god, nor your damned messiah
With ancient, true ways the forests fare well
Burn may you, holy priests, in your own holy hell