Let me tell you the story of Scheherazade 
      and how she spoke for a thousand nights,
      in different bodies. In different time
      		    Wake up.
      Tell the child his home will not be his 
      home, for long. Tell him that his father
      is dead. 		  That the drone lives on.
      And only when it is safe, and the sun has gone down
      can he come outside. 		The cows in the distance.
      The sky is orange, still. Still, or always.
      And only at night, can you hunt for yourself 
      	  like water, like prayer.
      Give it a body, again. Give it a finishing
      or an ending deserving of an ending.
      Give it rest. They will be gods, in time.
      And on the thousandth night, she spoke to the king.
      And on the thousandth night, she read her final story.
      And on the thousandth night, she saw you, there, 
      	  surrounded by light. This is our story.
      And on the thousandth night, she came to her senses
      and leaned into your	ear and said Wake up.
      Your father is on the other side of		the wall
      	  and he is waiting. This is where the story
      ends. This is what Scheherazade told the king
      and	    he spared her life. This is what she
      	       told the king, or the boy, or you
                    , reader. Don’t cry now.
                    
      Breathe.