I met an old king yesterday he was standing on the mountain side and though he wore peasants clothes his royalty he could not hide nor his grief staring at the stars his old hand pointing out the brightest by far he told me of the skys secrets and he says the stars lead to Jesus another king? and he crys as he says I have wisdom but it matters not for my children do not believe my words I have wealth but it matters not for it's not enough to buy their love and he whispers my children do not love me as we sit and watch the sun fall he asks of my knowledge he says he's felt the pain of a fallen castle wall he clames sorrow is wisdom's college as I listen to his words of tears he quietly confirms my fear that no matter how you run and scream terror is never just a dream I have wisdom, but it matters not for my children do not believe my words I have wealth but it matters not for it's not enough to buy their love and he whispers my children do not love me I'm the only one who listens to his words, am I the only one to listen to his words?
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