Friday, May 25, 2012

Hark! Why Come The Here Woman!

-"Be kind to yourself and others...Just because their eyes don't tear up, doesn't mean their heart doesn't cry"-

Do not be fooled...The child like face of women along with their child like voice is a weapon, this picture is frightening and violent. The caption mentions 'just because there are no tears' doesn't mean woman is not vulnerable, entitled and becomes so in actuality. Her power of manipulation and deception are validated. "Women are never stronger than when they arm themselves with their weaknesses." ~Marie de Vichy-Chamrond 

If this woman ever came for me armed as she is, you would hear the sound of a long metal sheen resonate as I draw a sword and point it in defense. I'd keep her approach and her healthy distance firmly directed toward the point.
Hark! Why come the here woman, what is thy bidding of me? "I want your courtship and undying love, your dedication to me so that we may bear fruits of our trust, we may have children and live sovereign and consecrate ever after. I want you to place me high upon your steed, to shoulder the burden that is me.....I revel to enthrall thee, to implore your will to call to me, convince you to lay it all to me, that what I offer ye for all to see is worthy of sacrifice and this is why I act so nice"
There is no consecrate mutual trust here. the tyrant upon the hill, he is your husband now. Leave me, leave me upon this grassy knoll where the birds still sing, the fruits of labor bared forth by my body are still my own and the dalliances of children mine still run through the dreams of my heart. It is there they are real.

You are a farse to me now, the hollow whore of the tyrant. Your vows lay there within the commiserate vacuous heart of the tyrants greed. Go now woman, to the cold outstretched arms of the tyrant upon the hill...he is your husband now.  You have surrendered all of our mutual consecrate trust to him. The sovereign bond of which you speak is not here. Follow your weakness woman, follow it to he to whom you've laid yourself bare, to he to whom you've so willfully bequeathed your vulnerability, your burden.....upon the alter of my sacrifice, follow it until you reach his arms. 
It is his bed in which you sleep and by his sword through which you reap. I will not place you upon my steed, it is his children of which you breed. In you I will not plant my seed, my loins, my labor you will not feed, I will not honor your unfaithful deed, I will not fill your consummate greed, a vanquished bond we share indeed. 
Go to him upon the hill, seek your needs he doth fulfill, lay with him in sacrosanct, it is he with whom your heart has banked. Stay with him upon the hill, bridle your soul to the unfulfilled. Surrendered to be the matron of State, a slave of me you seek to make, in the tyrant's fields you consummate, a whore of you hath ye doth make. The toils of mine you will not rake, in this, in you I have no, in yore and ever more...Your betrayal hast begotten you, a sullied fruit that rots in you, a virtue that is lost in, in yore and ever more.