of the Lost Boys he is not,
a member, a leader or a king,
for he is neither lost nor a boy;

he is lively and wild, like a child
bloody and angry, like a man
cruel and forgetful, like a god

children, do not tread between the willow and the oak; do not follow the light footsteps of the forest born;
a boy he is not

child, a puppet in his hands is all you will ever be until-
the god of the wild knows not how to care for things,
alive or dead.