Rastar Defends the Golden Bough

Suspended in sinister silence
Deep in Rastar’s domain is a golden branch
Burnished brighter than the precious bough
Of Diana’s sacred grove. A bough,
Firmly clasped by a hierarchical tree,
Incarcerating the twin terrors- power and demise,
Powers destined to be defended to point of death.

Against a backdrop of lowering skies
Rastar, his kingship under threat,
Has probed the depths of despair
And, as self appointed defender of the bough.
Wields the sword of priest and murderer;
A grim sinister figure, he prowls
Around the tree of power and death,
And knows his murderer,
His successor, in turn, will be slain
By one who is the craftier and stronger;

Raster wretches as the wind wails a dirge
To the wearisome dying of the day,
And he, usurper killer king of the woods,
Falsely deified as God of woodlands
Wild places and wild creatures,
Will defy and vanquish all rivals

Rastar beats the hell out of an innocent rat,
And starts to relish his recent vow
To protect the golden bough.