From a young star system.. war ridden;
Forced to pitchfork for ore
Not born a slave, before he was a matador
Had a badder who*e and ama**ed a fatter hoard
Of past awards, cash, and amore
Adored by more, than a thousand Moorish roars
That soared from the nosebleeds to the coliseum floor
Betrayed, now... in a cage, he escapes
Set a blazing coarse to pour forth
Due North; then west towards the
who*e's Port....
First you must traverse the Lord's thwart
Known as: The Hell's Porch
It's a cold moaning ocean
Of old growth coastal forest
Warts and bullet hornets
Of course there's the orchid sorceress
And her son, the horrible torturer
Morty Mortissen The Morbid
Holds a sword and a hacksaw
Slackjawed
Smells like a boars a** in a mashed sauce
Of sad dogs
Shadowed from the lackies and leviathans
Who blind to hindtail
From fine ale and catclaws
Take refuge near the canopy
Fashion a crude spear
Set traps and alarms for outlaws
Dirty paws, and jaguars
Fast asleep...
He dreamt of a liquid silver man
With wings for ears;
He revealed a near green tablet
And scenic dream of...
Red sands and;
Volcanic granite
He said
"Bull roared, glory for your wings and horns."
From where the race of gods became
And mortals bore
So follow these lay lines
That lead to these campsites
And from there the cave hives;
Past the lost eyes saddle
In ten days
On the margin of the Dead Plains
Gather a bundle of sour
Moon flower trumpets and
Two Thorn Apples
I can bring you here to Juno
Where your soul come from
It told him
"We are old friends."