Manipulation is the art of man yet, without man the woe only exists as she plays mans game. Manipulation is the holster that displays human form, for manipulation must feel power and the strong be weak. Allowing this power to overcome your strengths allows them to be victorious without blood drawn, only physical pain left unto internal ache. For manipulation lies with the heart of many that want what they can’t obtain thus afflicting their purported power onto the ones that pillaged their fatuous pawns in the art of gain. The very weakness of man can only crack to a certain declination, as the manipulation sees the fragility they bestow on their mortal plane. How it sickens the ones who see beyond this fiendish game. Seeing them convoluted unto this chessboard as they continue to guard their king and queen as they check mate the unguarded knight and use their lamentable queen for their own self gain. How much should be endured to see the manipulations that causes so much pain. One day in a foreseen future as retribution will condemn the very wicked game they played. The reckoning of their weaknesses for manipulation miss judged their next move for their king and queen is captured in the manipulative game for they will see the fragility they bestowed on others as their own reflection of disdain.
Sorry within sorrow that radiates an unprecedented trail of remorse that leaves this mark of disdain. As we speak words that echoes no meaning but only the sounds that portray this image we demonstrate. For words now are just figments of truth and perception. Sorry, I’m not sorry; overwhelmed by the actions displayed, as if it were just a play and your the leading role taking the stage. I’m not sorry for how I feel, I’m not sorry for my conceptual semantics. I’m not sorry for feeling I have to say sorry as the difference is I’m not on stage. Many appear to be living in this spotlight, their own little world as we all try to fit in this world leaving an unprecedented trail of remorse yet again and I’m weary of words now as now we hear what we want to hear and sorrow radiates the perception of the real truth.
For every moment we breathe it could be our last. We never realize how close death is until it crosses our path. As there is no control in what we plan and what we dream of from the past. An affliction emerges and anger turns into disdain as shadows follow those whom can’t let go of the pain. Its not a fairytale as we all close our eyes only rewinding the past to relive those moments left behind. The shadows leave a mark for it can only follow what we desire and want, for they won’t know the difference of dark and light for they are attached to you until you let go and let them see the light. As easy as it seems as death has a way of peeping in, for we all know the day that the shadow will make its way, reflecting our own light onto a passage that we can see so bright. Don’t be frightened by the shadows that surround us as they guide us unto another life, as they are hidden only to protect the life we have left as we join them in this journey to protect the ones that don’t see the shadows but see their guardians of light.
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” – Mark Twain