Where is the mercy I was promised?
You ask shout wail.
From whom should this come?
The emperor will not respond.
He’s taken up the search for his clothes,
A task that will lead him to strange lands.
He’ll learn that we are all naked regardless.
The various deities are likewise occupied.
They squabble over which
Is the almighty is the true is the only.
One day they’ll pause in amazement,
Seeing that each is a mirror image of the other, all.
They too stand stripped and bare.
Better then to tell your plight to a bird on a wire.
They’ll bestow upon you the benison of song
Catch your despair in their beak take wing into the sky
Drop it amongst the wisps of clouds then fly away.
You stare in wonder at the bands of color on the horizon
And begin your day with lighter heart.
Thus.
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