Personally my destiny has always been to find myself right here in the belly of this beast of burden.
Knowing that the princess has been here before and never made it. The Evil Queen has retarded the prince who has chosen the “adoring fans” aka the people and asked that this crown be the rule. He made the girl a fable, tells her story, gives the entire town something to fantasize about and make me the martyr. I know he has gotten sick of the hearts taking his heart over.
Gee whiz can you imagine that you have met her before. This enabled boy whose head is in the clouds of God who sees all. Makes up his mind on her every whim and takes his lashings verbally. She made the man, he made her the friend in the end, and yet is holding all the strings. Can easily sway the way while he gets taken for the ride
He has no control then she pretends he is allowed to drive the car. Feeds him the tools by keeping the power.
Everyone dies in the end. Maybe the story you tell can be your own, this time. Lying to a liar to get the truth? You taught the world how to sing, and she taught you everything.
You have to see you are more than ready, she wont let you go.
Love the harlot or the square pegs. You know love now enough to know all great epic fables come to an end. While you still have the chance to weave into the oncoming traffic, why save yourself to stay right where you are, when you must see that it is not where you are supposed to be/
Maybe it takes three generations to heal the sickness, but you will never start until you stop being the boy, and start facing that you are the man.
If the Queen has all the power, what happens when there is no King? Will she rule with an iron fist forever, the witch casting her spell until you give in, or will you make the story out in the end, as it really is supposed to be? Only God knows what is in strore for me, with this tide every day changing and hating on me, yet the best part of this story is when you understand why, when, where, how, and what, and your answer to every last one is me.
She might hold the cards, but no one knows better then you do, knowing the right isnt where you are really standing, if you see the bigger picture she has painted, think of how she has controlled it all to now, and while you met me before, yes it is true this must be deja vu. she taught you all the tricks you know,. and you are that made man.
Who made who? Whose life and world is this? Maybe if you let the one who dies in vain live on in infamy, they will see it is not my end, or yours, but merely the beginning.
She paints the picture, a trapped audience that has been the way of the world who lives in the shadows, with you touting every last word to get the welcome mat under the feet of bitter enemies, welcome the word of those wise men. . . who call you a jackel when defining the word, only to mock you like the mockingbird whose too simple to understand, when you truly see the hand of God working, it kills you to know this crusade wins for him, not you, the devil, underneath that mask.
She wont let that happen, she took your power away, and when she leaves you all alone without a have or have not, when they all turn on you like the romans did jesus, who will you stand with that will be there for you and build up your will by taking her home to live and let live.
Why does the world spin and keep up the spun? Why is it ok to lose and never to win? Why is there no way in the end to ask why it all went down the way that it did? Why can you not see that this story doesnt ever end? No ending, to begin again, these are the ways of the world, because it is mired in sin, so when you take on the demons, stand with God as the devils advocate, this battle is not for the ground of this Earth, but the souls that will rise up to heaven, forever forgiven.
Maybe there are ultimate judges that reign here on this street, maybe everyone has the scapegoat they all need to pretend, maybe this story as you tell, is the story of your own battle within. There are sins that make us or break us, there are broken ties from well worn paths worn thin, so why in this tale do you see it ending the way that was written, when only we can offer up ourselves to give up and not let them win.
The Sheep will inherit the earth as the meek ones
The bitter end.