At first there was the piano....then came the drums and the strings... but he didn't sing! There was no overture or a crescendo.. only....the symphonious orchestra playing on a whim... And it was beautiful...! Sing puppet, sing, You whom cut off Your own strings, to be able to dance on a whim according to Your own will....sing, puppet, sing.... Puppet no more....he left the floor and the roses fell as flakes of snow in summer, out of place....
There is no glory of the great found here. No choice of courage over fear ..we are in the North where the ice has disappeared.. Survival of the fittest our deaths are by design. We know what they had done. Know the mistakes... They witnessed the fire that lit up the night...ending of the cycle beginning of the fight....I am an unnamed in a cage... They think us as their fodder they live without their honor... I am a disilussioned former slave...arms wide open..we embrace our fate...Choosing Honor for the brave... Courage by design! (Inspired)
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