Not Water, But Fire
Into the woods, our young survivor fled,
Fueled by the knowledge that if caught he’d be dead.
He knew he had to seek out aid,
Or else no man on Earth could be saved.
As the sky grew darker, he felt a weight in his chest
And knew that soon he would need to rest.
But little did he know, not far behind,
Jesusaurus was making excellent time.
Soon he heard a gurgling, from a nearby stream,
Just the taste of water felt like a dream!
But as he sat down, washing his hands,
He heard a monstrosity walking ‘cross the sand.
He looked past the stream and was shocked when he saw,
Jesusaurus, and his wide, gaping maw.
Without a moment to spare he leapt to a nearby ravine,
As Jesusaurus yelled, “This isn’t the last that you’ve seen!
“I’ll track you down, and tear you limb from limb,
“And drag your worthless corpse back to Him!”
With more resolve now than ever, the boy thought aloud,
“I know one way to kill Jesusaurus, but I must not make a sound.”
With nail and hammer, the boy crafted his plan,
As at the top of the cliff Jesusaurus ran.
“I must find a way down,” the beast he thought,
“Hell hath no fury like my Father has wrought
“I’ll hunt this boy down, and by the time this day’s through
“The count of living humans will be but a few.”
The monster didn’t first know what he was hearing,
But ‘twas the sound of a fire crackling and searing.
“I am done running,” a voice quietly spoke
“It’s time to end you, and this quasi-religious joke.”
And then the boy stepped out from the woods,
Armed with sword and torch, at the tree-line he stood.
The earth itself shrank back from their rage,
But the boy’s sword couldn’t pierce Jesusaurus’s thick hide,
He needed a way to turn the tide!
He fell back to the woods, where he had laid his trap,
Hoping the dinosaur’s attention would lapse!Just when it seemed the battle was lost,
The boy saw his moment, he had to be fleet!!
He quickly drove stakes through the dinosaur’s hands and feet!
With a triumphant yell, he had turned the tide!
As he pierced his sword into Jesusaurus’s side!
Knowing that now he was going to die.
“In three days,” he whispered, with his last breath,
“I’ve done it before, I’ll again conquer death!”
“Three days?” asked the boy, “Here’s a promise you can quote,
“In less than two, I’ll have cut your father’s throat!”