Awake. My cycle repeats, my paradise awaits. Our paradise. We four set off, leading our heard across the comforting wetness, our food moving hidden under. They must think we are unaware of them; we are not. Sky orb is making our horizon orange as it always does until it goes to the peak above our heads, a blessing of our better nature. We are the peak, and our tribe is the peak of all. The oasis the old ones had found is a blessing passed to us, the four of us to lead. As we should. The green nests surround us all, hiding us from the lesser, from the floor nests to the sky nests. All play a role in protecting our paradise.
Awake. My cycle repeats, my paradise awaits. Our paradise. I set off with the other four, our elegance leading as an example. Although one is different. Its feathers astray, eyes empty, under feathers loose. I think no more of it and continue. The sky orb is producing its beautiful orange through the tall nests, adding to my beauty. My bounty good once again, although the strange one shares their bounty. This is odd, but we continue. We push away the impure as the cycle dictates. As our cycle ends, the empty one glides close with one of us, and they leave.
Awake. My cycle repeats, my paradise awaits. We five set off, our elegance in three. One has become like the other, we remain superior. Our bounties are smaller it seems, and them seem to be more lesser geese surrounding us that we push away with more difficulty. The two empty geese seem to be with the other elegant geese, only I remain alone, I lead elegantly hiding nothing. The sky orb is at its end of the cycle with the orange seeming red as I end.
Awake. My cycle repeats. We five set off, only my elegance remains, they are different, the others. All seem empty as if wearing a beautiful shell dying with them. We lead, but I am led by the others this is wrong. The bounty is smaller than ever, and the rodent geese have arrived as many. And our numbers as a tribe seem to have dwindled and replaced by more empty geese. We continue. I hunger under the red sky orb, my insides dissatisfied with my lack of bounty. We approach the end. And I go to my home nest, the superior nest for I am now pure and leading alone. But the other four geese have joined, and I am not alone. The others fade as my eyes become weak. I cannot be removed, I am the better Goose, the pure. I see the others remove their shells, their false purities emerge, and I fall. Awake no more.
Birth, my cycle starts, our paradise awaits. Our hive. We five set off scurrying across the land, its dominant species. We are led by the hive and are the hive. Our bounties great as we take in struggling beings, all who need it. Tyranny is done. The sun is shining between the trees. Our oasis is still hidden and true, pure, and righteous, a sanctuary for all. We lead the others, but we nurture. Our cycle ends to repeat. My cycle to repeat again as always. We pass the pit of tyranny, the bodies piled high of the darkened souls. Geese no more. I turn to sleep to rise again, to lead and protect. Against those who keep and destroy, the last thing they will see. There was a mouse.