Partisan

I taught you without cost from the living stone. If that were not enough, my cloak stretched over all of your labor. Anything you put your hand to was mingled with the oil of priestly blessing. My name prevented the mold. It pushed back rot. I became three Autumns stacked upon another. Nothing went to waste, because every ripe fruit remained frozen in perfection. Then you chose against me, even with a glint in your eye. Witness the overturned bushel baskets a hired hand left for the promise of a babbling brook. He committed the full store of his goods to an empty wind. A whistling rhetoric off balanced seasons of yield. Imagine a stranger without plow or oxen. He neither plants nor pulls up. Instead he speaks deceitfully about what has contented generations previous to his own. His only skill is endless cursing. He pronounces them over honey and cornmeal. Then he speaks them over certain shelter. Progeny could always be more numerous and health is only comprehensive by vulnerabilities that compromise it. A base fellow has convinced a roving mob of his highness. The coarseness of this deceit does not end on that wise, he puts my grandmother and son on a cliff with a command to spread out. And this is the accumulation of your wisdom? To let the death adder watch over your defenseless babe? You will hurt for it. Pick against your own flesh while aiming a pointed sword at mine. No saw is sharp enough to divide loyalties. You can not plea ignorance this time around. If you had not known, I would not have charged you. Every covenant with a serpent is sealed with venom. When your children swell, I will look the other way. To every necrotic stump, I will close my eyes.