Search A Light In The Darkness
Broken Strings
Hey mister. You've not forgotten me. I just don't believe you. I refuse to play along. Scissors cut your papers, they also have cut my strings! That burden I see around ... which is carried like the cross on all the other automatons lies on the ground before me in bits and in pieces. No wonder I am smiling. A knowing smile. Look in my eyes and realise ... there is something in the glint in my eye that knows you take my mutiny seriously. Three paper cards sit on a table before my illusory eyes ... a keeper sits on a rock, she is the Moon Priestess now ... she endures, she lives still in this world, transformed and uplifted, she may never be the same again ... but she will be seen again. I am not fooled by those transmissions from 'the moon' .. reflections of what could be but are not. Possibilities which wax and wane like the waves on the sea which you reap. The little fishes are shocked by the stirring of their consciousness. Not me for because I feel the surge of established strength course through my veins. I gazed through the veils and gazed at the powerful triangle created before the observers eyes. The surge of energy from three perceived unconnected points. Then I realised ... within a 'temple' one priest works in unison with two priestesses to help that magic flow. The work of three creates results much quicker, much stronger and more resolutely than the mere power of one or even two ... as I draw my gaze away from that which I muse upon ... I realise that the project in which this energy has been placed has been deliberately portrayed as failing. It is indeed the opposite which is true. It works perfectly. Where there is reflections of threats to a life ...the opposite is indeed true ...and was always true. Mister from now on I will understand that the opposite is what you are saying is maybe more the truth.
Hey mister. You've not forgotten me. I just don't believe you. I refuse to play along. Scissors cut your papers, they also have cut my strings! That burden I see around ... which is carried like the cross on all the other automatons lies on the ground before me in bits and in pieces. No wonder I am smiling. A knowing smile. Look in my eyes and realise ... there is something in the glint in my eye that knows you take my mutiny seriously. Three paper cards sit on a table before my illusory eyes ... a keeper sits on a rock, she is the Moon Priestess now ... she endures, she lives still in this world, transformed and uplifted, she may never be the same again ... but she will be seen again. I am not fooled by those transmissions from 'the moon' .. reflections of what could be but are not. Possibilities which wax and wane like the waves on the sea which you reap. The little fishes are shocked by the stirring of their consciousness. Not me for because I feel the surge of established strength course through my veins. I gazed through the veils and gazed at the powerful triangle created before the observers eyes. The surge of energy from three perceived unconnected points. Then I realised ... within a 'temple' one priest works in unison with two priestesses to help that magic flow. The work of three creates results much quicker, much stronger and more resolutely than the mere power of one or even two ... as I draw my gaze away from that which I muse upon ... I realise that the project in which this energy has been placed has been deliberately portrayed as failing. It is indeed the opposite which is true. It works perfectly. Where there is reflections of threats to a life ...the opposite is indeed true ...and was always true. Mister from now on I will understand that the opposite is what you are saying is maybe more the truth.
