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remember your Teacher?

think not what you need, said once the Teacher
but he wasn't as fashionable as Nietzsche
so you turned around and imagined you were crowned
and believed all was due to you as a tribute
for your highness' will to power so abound

buried so deeply under deception of greed and pride
you forgot what God-given talents were
and where you hid them from yourself
while meditating new luxury heights
and what war to wage with who to get there
or maybe stealing from the thieves is not sin?
maybe they will make legal what is not?
and, maybe you should recite more prayers?
who do you kiss up to, to grant you all that?

yes, for a time, you can deceive anyone
with any act and any disguise
but you cannot stand before God and say:
"me and the Prince, we successfully compromised"
how long can you live split like that?
can you avoid both, truth and pain?
can you live on a parched land
and pretend to know the rain?

i labored for your sight to be restored
even though you didn't deserve it
i labored for your heart to be healed
even thou you kept reviling me
i labored to save your soul
while you didn't know you needed it
and you kept praying to your golden calf
and kept asking for more and more wealth
oblivious to the peril of losing your life

but if the book of life does not have
your name written down
you might have pounds of gold on your head
shaped anyway you like
yet, you won't have a real crown


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