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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1830132
A poetic experience telling the story of a Prince and his rise to reign. Based on my life.
He was born a prince,
Wearing a tarnished crown,
And sitting on his rotting throne,
Dreaming of the day he will rule this empire of shit...

With a handful of dirt,
And a mouth full of deceit,
He grows to be a master of wordplay,
And auditory trickery...

His supreme creativity,
The author of fantasy with a twist,
A realist verbalizing and applying his gifts,
Gaining ground and leverage in this battle field called life...

He struggles to see,
But never stops the search,
Empowerment of the mind is his religion,
Solidarity his church...

Corruption embedded within his physical structure,
Releasing the toxins that strangle freewill and wonder,
Ever elevating with each barrier destroyed,
He fights with an army of letters forming words,
Spoken by a tongue he knows is a double edged sword...

There is nothing he fears more than life and embraces like death...

His perspective distorted by sin,
Has been accurately recorded on his skin,
He learned through years of tears,
Brought out by strife...

Snares placed by the sheep,
Designed to baffle and mentally vandalize,
Spread through the mind box,
Switching original thought to generalized,
But unknown to the opposition,
Is his true disposition toward the uprising...

Its socially acceptable hypocrisy,
With lies force fed as truth,
Sweet to the ears,
But decays like a cavity on a tooth...

So he knows what he must do,
And respects the struggles which gave birth,
To the fists of iron he swings and pounds,
Opening doors and avenues,
To peruse and confuse the fools selling manipulator tools,
And end the spreading of misguided religious rules...

His method of justice is nothing unjust,
You are what you are,
And told so with conviction and trust,
That the words heard,
Are heavy in weigh,
Entering the ears,
Planting seeds in the brain...

His reign produces thunder,
Shaking his empires frame,
But never crashing upon his head,
Alerting of weakness,
Leaving him dead...

Formed in the image of God,
The mirror reveals purity,
The apple of his eye,
Is his own insanity...

Defining existence by consequence,
Calmness found in turbulence,
His empire impervious to disturbance,
Or so he believed...

Born into a world of greed,
He continuously suffers and dies internally,
But with every sunrise comes rebirth,
Retries and reminders to be,
Quiet and still,
Loyal and real,
True to self by avoiding societies push to be another sheep in the field,
Following a leader who's authority is unquestionably uncontested,
The grass they graze is green but not easily digested,
Ignorance tolerated and accepted with patience,
The shepherd rewards conforming by taking...

Ambitions and desires to multiply our personalized dreams to rise higher,
By overpowering popular persuasion with individual thought,
Ignoring the majority that merely repeat what they're taught...

Standing up,
Never bowing down,
Freely questioning authority,
Forming beliefs based on experiences in life,
Not televised programs dictating and selling glamorous lies,
Attractive but completely misleading...

Rerouting the purpose of living by being influential to the masses,
Brainwashing by beating subliminal messages into the mind that more 's what we're needing,
Success materialized destroys its true meaning,
An enticing addiction,
Twisting the motivation for simple living into a self inflicted complex mistaking taking for giving...

So he walks away from his throne as he straightens his crown,
Now the king of an empire burnt to the ground,
The power he had,
He used to mislead,
Forcing his followers to provide all his needs,
Taking and breaking the making of truth,
By faking to be concerned about you.
© Copyright 2011 Sven Ghali (svenlish at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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