The Immortal Fox

Deities are powerful
And none more so than those who take
On the protective mantle
Of the fox boys
For their sake

Those who have walked the forest
For aeons before
Mystical those immortal souls
Bred on blood and gore

With belief systems
So paramount
Instinctively these souls
Who have run the human gauntlet
In their very varied roles

Dwellers deep in Mother Earth
The cavernous brigade
Chased by kuntsman and rabid hounds
On their villainous parade

Brigands clad in blood red tunics
Ride through sylvan boughs
Leaping thorny hedge likes copses
Uprooted by wild sows
Victims may be noble barons
The schooner filling knights of old
Tally Ho and off to tear
Limb from limb in ditches rolled

A visionary vigilante sprang from
No where, and she be
Tall enough to breach the distance
And to let the fox run free
Or cradle him in her soft arms
And rise above the forests glare
Listen to the packs come growling
And leaping up into the air

Their scent on fire
Their Jacobson organs sensitive
To all around
Aradia a central figure
Floating upwards off the ground
The fox is safe within her soft arms
In every hunt in every place
Aradia encircles quietly
Then she’s gone without a trace

Terrier men and hunting fellows
Even the police come by to say
Who is this mysterious floating women
And why is she around today
How does she know of the hunts in progress
Where they are and how they be
Deities do know what ever they want to know
They hold the key

She is the fox boys insurance seller
Covering uncertainties is her task
Whatever the terrier men are doing
Whatever the boys in blue now ask
She rises upwards each time the kuntsman
Ambush a fox and make it run
She is their saviour
And their protector
Clad in white
Bright as the sun

She cradles the foxes
Whose hearts beat fast
In the wind that
Blows
She feels that blast
And just how manic
The die is cast
A warm embrace
As they all run passed

Aradia,
stands tall for she
Can rise above the biggest tree
The hounds seem tiny down below
And the kuntsman
Know not where to go

The police arrive
With their whistles they
Can blow them now till judgement day
Aradia has done her stuff
And the hangers on have had enough
Over the dales where clovers creep
Where the balls of wool are in fact sheep
Where the white crossed palings uniform
Crash down hard in the late night storm

The AR groups seem mesmerized
The spiritual significance
Realised
Princes they be not rogues at all
They can run and walk real tall
The kuntsman really are no odds
Mostly just a bunch of sods
Who destroy the balance everywhere
On the land and forest
we all share

Aradia can do no wrong
This is where she does belong
Helping the wee folk the foxes
Who
Would be dead and gone if not for you
The AR mob and Aradia soul
Are really now back in control

So equilibrium shines again
Nothing really is in vain
The fox boys are the princes they
Have been vindicated
Along the way

Not many nowadays it would seem
But Aradia, heads the dream team
She saves the foxes at every hunt
Cradles them
Even the smallest runt
Is saved from death when she is near
Aradia’s spirit
Is always here

The pestilence are the kuntsman who
Once were the kingpins
But now they do
Get kicked and harried
From post to post
And it’s Aradia that we love most

Based in a visionary dream