Wednesday, October 6, 2010

The Jester

The Jester

What you see is what you get. Not in my world where the meager
become more it's where darkness isn't that dark. Where madness
reigns supreme. Life is but a laugh to the jester. Were the weak
become knights; and those who believe they are great find out what
they truly are? The jester's home is his muse.
Where do you live is this where you want to be, or is it somewhere
else.
Who am I what are you. What are you a dreamer who runs
your dreams!
Can you justify what you have said? Are you but a hopeless
liar? Do you live within these walls? You must break free but
you're not a phoenix. Burning but not reborn. Lying to yourself,
and others.
Peering through a hole so tiny can you see anything from this?
You believe yourself a prophet. Living lies you have told your-
self.
Faking death just like a possum. Animal characteristics, which I
thought you, had. Monster tearing apart your soul. City lights are so
famous over shadowing your true self.
It's so nice to see this kind mask. Tear it off and scare yourself.
What is truly tugging at your soul? Laughing at the truth. But noth-
ing more.
All my friends have grown within me without their help I
would be dead.
Kindly sitting back in silence. When I have so much to say.
Freeing my self through my writings. Trying for some goals so
high.
Why must I endure this suffering? Once again ever more never
more.
Can I really escape these bars? Am I just a fool for trying?
All those who told me I can be nothing I refuse I will go down try-
ing to become.
What am I a monster? Let us hope not or let your god have its
mercy.
If not hope ye soul be cleansed. Or eternal damnation beseeches
you.
Can you really trust it I'm sure you can?
Has he really sent his demons?
Fury upon this earth. It is his tears it is it's self.
The jester is the wisest for he proclaims he is not wise.
Laugh at this it is the truth.
What has brought him to his state?
Was it the suffering in which has been inflicted upon him through
the ages?
Has he really left this place?
Can this be possible to vent his pain?
He stairs as if he is miles away.
All this defense, and for what nottin but dat twisted thought.
Has he went to the palace of the mind. Metamorphosis of the
strangest kind.
Let him play his silly games.
The jester will live forever witin you within me.
Laugh and sing. To read to write to live. Forever more to live again.

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