Michael

There is a man that plays the flute for a sovereign. In time the man shall snap the flute in two at the inevitable miss of a note, all the awhile being prepped for the guillotine. There is a wooden puppet a master uses to nothing but to grab the smallest of objects set forth on the stage. In time the puppet will burn after the strings are discovered, all the awhile the puppeteer is prepped for the guillotine. Then, there is the simple writer. He wishes no more than loving acclaim, sharing the few things he can describe and envision. In time the writer will cease to exist, as he to is prepped for the guillotine.


The sovereign makes sure that everything has its end and will be forgotten. Only he shall be remembered in his kingdom. However, the almighty king has overlooked a small, but nevertheless important detail. The writer, unlike the musician and puppeteer master does not seemingly die and fade into the forgotten abyss. Through his writings he will live on. His imagery and meaning will forever be remembered as everything else within the nation fades away. In time, the Soveriegn will perish, by the same means he did with the others. His tyranny will come to a needed end and he will be forgotten. The Writer will have won to a battle he did not pledge for, only seeking the fruits of his labor. For now, the Sovereign seats himself on his almighty throne as the the Joker without a punchline is prepped for the guillontine.

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