Silur, son of Chelicer,
Saw the world in ruin's blur.
And in this devastation
Saw opportunity's creation.
Silur shouted out with might
To all sons in his sight
Of Animus, declaring
His vision, never caring
For those who'd gone before:
"I did not steal this lore
Of kingship from the crown.
I found it lying down
In gutter, and I picked
It up, my fate predicted
By sword that I had found.
But 'twas the people's sound
Of voices that placed it
On my head, perfect fit
For one who'd take the throne
And make it all his own."
And so began the era
Of Silurian chimera,
Rising from the ashes
Of Ordovician's crashes.
Silur bore two sons:
Eurypter when begun
The day, and Chasmas strong
Who lived his whole life long.
Chasmas begat two more:
Belangkas to explore
And Xiphos, who would be
Living by the sea.
Xiphos became the sire
Of crabs whose desire
Was horseshoe-shaped design
Throughout the end of time.
Belangkas climbed up high
Onto the land to try
What none had done before:
To claim from shore to shore
The land from Hirnan's hand
And make his own command
Of territories wide
Where he could reside.
Like Myriapus of old
He found his story told
In suffocation's pain
Upon the terrestrial plain.
But pierced wounds in his side
And was thus satisfied
With air that he could breathe
To give his lungs relief.
Belangkas begat two:
Soliber, tried and true,
And Opiliona fair
Who spread life everywhere.
Opiliona spread the moss
Across the world, no loss
Too great for her to bear
In her maternal care.
She grazed upon the green
And on what could be seen
Of daughters of Millipa
Throughout the earthly steppe-a.
Opiliona was a mother
Great, and like no other
Farmer with her legs
So long, and wisdom begs
Us to remember her
As one who would confer
Great blessings on the land
With her maternal hand.
Beautiful legs so long
Made her the subject of song:
"Granny Long Legs" they'd call
Her, beloved by all.
"Granny Harvest" too,
For all the work she'd do
To spread the green of life
Through joy and through strife.
And so in honor of
Her life and of her love,
We call her children still
"Daddy Long Legs" (though will
Seem strange to some that "Daddy"
Names descendants of a lady).
"Harvestmen" as well
Their story always tell.
Soliber begat two:
Pneumaran, tried and true,
And Kitzi, small but strong
Who lived his whole life long.
Pneumaran begat then
Two sons beyond all ken:
Solaran of the sun
And Acares, begun
As dwarf among his kin,
But he would always win
A place in history
As ancestor, you see,
Of mites, the little ones
Who when their work is done
Live everywhere on land
Built by their tiny hand.
Acares bore two sons:
Sarco when day begun
And Trombo, who would be
Living peacefully
Or not, as fate would tell
His story oh so well
Of how some choose the light
While others choose the night.
The sons of Sarco clean
The world, and can be seen
As dust mites everywhere
Who take the greatest care
To keep the world swept clean
Of dust that might have been
A problem for us all
Who answer life's sweet call.
Among the sons of Trombo
Some live like peaceful combo
Of gentleness and grace
In their appointed place.
But others are the plague
That makes all good souls vague
With worry and with fear—
Parasites we hear
Stifle life with their ways
Throughout our living days,
Horrific in their greed
That plants destruction's seed.
Among the peaceful ones
Are Trombo's gentle sons:
The red velvet mites
Who bring us pure delights.
From red velvet mites
We learn love's sacred rites:
A story of the heart
That plays the loving part
In nature's grand design
Where all true loves align
With beauty and with grace
In every living place.
Solaran begat two:
Solifugon so true
And Ricinulon the small
Who answered duty's call.
Solifugon became
The father of great fame
Of Wind Spiders who race
Across the earth's face.
Ricinulon became
The father of the name
Of Tick Spiders so small
Who answer hunting's call.
Kitzi begat two sons:
Byblos when day begun
And Paras, who would be
Small in his degree.
Byblos the Book Knight
Continues day and night
To this very day
To guard in his own way
The books that hold the lore
Of all who came before.
His sons, the Book Scorpions,
Are knowledge's companions.
They defend with their might
The books both day and night
From those who would destroy
What brings the world such joy.
Paras begat two more:
Mesos to explore
And Holoxos the strong
Who lived his whole life long.
Mesos was a hunter
Fierce, and he would shunt-er
Across the globe to find
Prey to feed his mind
And body's gluttony—
A small but mighty fee
He'd take from life around
Wherever he was found.
But Holoxos walked where
Blood flowed everywhere
From his fallen kin:
Sons of Arachnus thin
And sons of Myriapus
Who'd been victorious
In other times and places
Before death's embraces.
He drank their blood and bore
Two sons to explore
The paths of blood and death:
Thyrus drew his breath
From peaceful tradition,
Drinking by submission
Only blood of those
Who'd found their last repose.
But Ricinus turned dark
And left his evil mark
On all the world around—
Where he could be found
He fed on living blood
Like some unholy flood
Of evil and of greed
That plants destruction's seed.
Ricinus drinks the life
From those in joy and strife,
Injecting with his bite
Venom through the night
That paralyzes those
He's chosen as his foes.
Paralytic, sweaty,
His venom's never petty
But always brings the pain
Like some unholy rain
That falls on those who can't
Escape his evil grant.
Ricinus swells up
Like some unholy cup
Inflated with the blood
Of innocents, a flood
Of stolen life that flows
Within him as he grows
Fat with others' pain
Like some unholy stain
Upon the world of life
That cuts like sharpest knife
Through all that's good and true
In me and you.
By Ricinus the blood
Of scorned women's flood
May taint our mortal veins
With all their bitter pains.
When Lilith's blood flows in
Our veins, we can't win
Against the poison's might:
Typhus brings its blight
And Spotted Fever too
To me and you
Who cannot fight alone
Against what we have sown
By letting evil in
Our world where it can win
Against the good and true
That lives in me and you.
The Midichlorians live
In what Ricinus' give:
Within their mitochondria
Lives Lilith's bacteria—
The greatest revenge told
By stories new and old
Of those who choose the dark
And leave their evil mark.
And after daughters come
Of Lilith, and the sum
Of all their evil ways:
Malarius' dark days
And Lyme and all the rest
Of sisters who're possessed
By pestilence and death
That steals away our breath.
Ricinus, father of
Ticks who show no love
But only greed and hate,
Engorged with others' fate,
Shows us what becomes
Of those whose evil sums
Into a force so strong
That right can't win from wrong.
But Eurypter would be
Father of dynasty
Far greater than the line
Of Chasmas' design.
A nation he would make
That would its rightful take
Of glory and of might
To fill the world with sight
Of what the good can do
When they are tried and true
To principles of right
That shine like morning light
Through all the world's dark places
Where evil shows its faces
But cannot win the day
When good shows its way.
From Silur's opportunity
Seen in calamity
To Opiliona's care
For life everywhere,
From Book Knights who defend
The knowledge we depend
Upon to light our way
Through each and every day,
To those who choose the dark
And leave their evil mark
On all the world around
Where they can be found,
The Silurian shows
How each one's choice grows
Into the world we see
For you and me.
Some choose to heal and mend
What others would rend
Apart with greed and hate
That seals our mortal fate.
Others choose to take
For their own selfish sake
What others need to live
And never learn to give.
The lesson clear as day
Shows us the way
To choose what we will be
For all eternity:
Those who heal and bless
Or those who make the mess
That others have to clean
In places yet unseen.
From Silur's royal crown
To blood-suckers who drown
The world in pain and death,
Each choice draws its breath
From what we hold most dear:
Love that casts out fear
Or fear that kills all love
And blocks the light above.
The choice is ours to make
In every step we take
Along life's winding road
Where we must bear the load
Of what our choices bring
To every living thing
That shares this world with us
In ways both glorious
And terrible to see
For you and me
Who must decide each day
Which path we'll take away.
The Silurian age began
With one who had a plan
To rise from ruin's call
And build hope for all.
But also shows how some
Will always choose to come
Down on the side of death
With their every breath.
The choice is always ours
To use our mortal powers
For good or ill each day
Along our living way.
From opportunity's call
To rise above the fall
Of golden ages past
To build what will last,
The Silurian reminds
Us that each one finds
The world they choose to make
For everyone's sake.
Choose well, for what you choose
Will be what you will lose
Or gain for all the days
Of your immortal ways.
From Silur's royal start
To ticks' bloodsucking art,
The lesson's clear to see:
We are what we choose to be.