Eyes watch from the highest tiersHidden in the ethereal darkness
Their faces hidden to the sheep on the mortal floor
Their digits influence their minions on the web
To keep in place what has been installed through the aeons
A Dark figure cross the wooden bridge
Crook in hand, walking away from the ancient tree
Discarded golden crescents on the floor behind him
Observer's eyes see him without seeing
There is too much commotion around ... to make the connection
The jester of the round table
Holds three spheres with patterns out to the watching eyes
Behind him a rouge curtain begins to fall
That which is behind him; that interior of truth
Once more is concealed; hidden from the world
Higher voices speak in his ear
He says what he must say then walks away
No expression crosses his face
Amid the distraction; forces controlled by the high chatter
Convincing the observers it is as they say
The soaring doves seemingly forgotten now
The desire for the replica crescent ... slipping from view
As the maker of the crescents sails his vessel on the high seas
Human emotions now the cultivated pearls
There is no wisdom to be gained from the deceiving words
The higher minds are angry ... they observe corruption
Within their ranks; within their spheres; within their towers
Cracks form far below in the foundations
But they are helpless .. requiring those of lower stations to repair
For they are not able to show themselves ... they remain in the shadows.
--Matthew James--
