Can you recover in the sight of self, tricking you, controlling you, making you do things to destroy the gifts God disburses? What nasty little game conjures sponsored pains for seemingly no reason whatsoever? How does the grand play work itself out in the repeat of the same scenario ad infinitum?

Do you dance quickly to the whispers and music played out by swarming sirens and saints? What relief found in the maze, each corner turned a darker secret labored? How many sons and daughters have found their ruin only to be left standing alone at the dais of the self-service? Alone, victoriously tired.

Expelled the dreams and pleasures ventured. Lined up on the mantle of self-resolve seeking solutions seldom found per venture. What beasts have coddled my addled understanding, mollified, vilified in sadness the reasons found in history? Oh calls to greater men than I to find my way through this villainy.

What priests to random goddess sacrifice my mourning? What hope of emerging on the other side of the written realm of folly and missed comprehension? My head pounding for relief yet none in the spells of darkened hearts found reason. I am captured by my own prison though I scream for freedom.

How do wills and wiles join in converging education? Revealing things that gossip spoke and lords and ladies prattled. Brothers, Sisters caught in the folds of their own folly. Playing part handed out in times beyond our review. What path may wind it way to confidence, stealing back what had been pilfered?

This is my own undoing. Never knowing the timing or the words and seldom finding them together upon the same annals of self-reading. Alone to be useful for no one but the King, but in responding to that leading finding the good that would escape my will and power to recall before the throne room.

Tools may not think, reasoning for themselves the best path forward and fools have lesser opportunity. Being both or neither I flounder for ocean bottom with two eyes pointed skyward feeling for rock and sand beneath me. Only finding mud and waters never ending, I lumber on to midnight in forgotten orientation.