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.
There laid a mask hidden behind his alluring tone, his inflection swooned as he conveyed his claim and never faltered his rule. Each step cascading down the walkway to his realm there laid more masks that were never mentioned but just buried away for her to find and leave behind. Buried down, bounded and strapped onto a beautiful blinded mess for only he knew his lies would only crack the surface but never reach the depths of her beautiful elegance. Though blinded, she would be able to see the chaos that reaches far beyond what he could see, for a mask can only cover so much, till time withers away the façade and his weaknesses began to surface above. For it was a beautiful day of convenience filled with joy and gracious hope that the masks settled to only reveal the fate of two blinded and masked lovers hidden from each other as she returned to her realm as he was buried down, bounded and strapped onto a beautiful blinded mess.
Its is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages. – Friedrich Nietzche