The world is at war
This is the final war
There will be no peace
As most of the good men are dead
I am hiding in the woods
And am watching as the enemy soldiers
Hunt for survivors
Occasionally a rifle shot breaks the silence
In my possession I have Joanna’s wooden box
It is a box of wonders
As yet unopened
I look up
A soldier with a rifle is standing over me
He shouts a command in a secret language
More soldiers appear
They are about to kill me
I open the box for the first time
And a red dragon appears
And kills the soldiers
One by One
I leave the woods
For the first time in twelve years
Corpses rot in the frozen fields
They have been ripped to pieces
Bleached bones litter the winter grasses
And she brought forth a man child
Who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron
From his throne of blood
I beckoned a woman much raped towards the woods
A place has been prepared for her by God
There she would be fed and clothed
And would stay with the wooden box
For one thousand two hundred a threescore days
Then upon my return she would reveal herself to me
Clothed by the sun with the moon at her feet
I would place a crown of twelve stars upon her head
And we would engage in physical love
For fourteen years and fourteen days
Producing many children
Who would rule the warring nations
After my death
As I had once done
Joanna once again has her box
And sits each day under the tallest tree
Caressing its shallow relief
She knows what it holds
And has secreted its key within her person