I see kings in the kingdom of imagination,
I see slaves in the frailty of self-preservation.
I see them wandering without a guide in falseness,
Roaming everywhere, unaware of their idleness.
The kings lost their heritage to the fellowship of kin,
A stranger calls them all, “come, under my wing.”
The parents forgot the truth, how could they tell the children,
The magic of the world is lost, green lands have become barren.
Hollow authority is the grit of self-obedience and ego,
You and I learned to embrace possibilities, so off we go.
Our king is merciful and kind, use no weapon, he reminds,
He will sort the wretched out one day, that time confines.
We are just explorers with the maps to the stars of fate,
Traveling in the mind is our way, our heart is confiscated.
Brother, this bond is more than blood-relations can ever be,
Millenium becomes just a chapter of our lives when we meet.
We are looking for the king in the kingdom of light,
Is there a kind who wins their heart,
Never rules them with his might?
Has anyone really been to the extremes and in between?
To extol the friendship as the king and love as the queen.