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Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses,
And all the king’s men,
Tried to put Humpty together again.

When Humpty Dumpty had his fall all his followers mourned his demise.

Humpty was their great leader, their guiding light towards salvation. When Humpty fell off his perch and his head cracked like a fresh egg, to his followers all the world turned to darkness.

So the devoted, especially those who served as his soldiers desperately tried putting Humpty back together, like they were fixing a wheel broken on a poorly maintained path.

But the pieces wouldn’t go back together again. Death had done its reaping and no-one could stop the motion of its black hand.

So the followers of Humpty were left to long for the day he would call again.

The great Yahweh once sat on the highest wall until he took a stumble head over heels.

As the deity lay spilling his life force like a cracked egg, his followers gathered around. Sorrowed that their spiritual leader, their guidance and their source of salvation from the horrors of life was slipping away they scrambled to try and put all his pieces back together.

But no amount of “men and horses” could fix their “Humpty Dumpty” and as Yahweh’s light faded, to his followers, all the world turned to darkness.

However, there are those among Yahweh’s followers who do not simply long for him to return, they believe they can hear him call out in the night.

This so-called vayikra inspires a new breed of soldiers and horses – the Sirs and knights of Yahweh – to try and fix the broken wheel and set it in motion once again.

Eliminate an abomination here, slay a heretic there and by some cosmic glue “Humpty Dumpty” is put together again.

But let me warn you, Sir Bellator, once Death has reaped with his scythe, you cannot re-plant the harvest unless he wills it.

The problem with you, Sir, and your companions, you put too much faith in finite things.

An egg will crack if it is dropped.

Humpty Dumpty will break into pieces if he falls.

A deity will die if Death wills its demise.

The finite will perish, they run out of time. Gods are not different.

But death persists. It is infinite and ceaseless.

The Black Hand of Death is eternal in its motion, the only everlasting wheel in the cosmos and you cannot stop it.

But fear not, while our shadow is vast, the night is always darkest before the dawn and, I, Corvus, of The Black Hand, promise you all the light of the new dawn.

The greater good.

Tirelessly I work for this and the return of your god is not part of the plan.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,
Forty score Sirs,
And forty score knights,
Will never again set Humpty to rights.