Some say the words I write make them feel like a God.
I find that rather odd.
I just speak to the King I see.
Sometimes he’s asleep, resting in his manly being.
So I approach and caress his ears with my words.
Sometimes I tease him with tantalizing verbs.
Massaging the tension from his neck, with stories of what he does the best.
I tell him I’m pleased that he is a King!
Speaking to the spirit of his inner being!
Breathing life into his destiny!
Isn’t rather odd to look upon a man and not see God?
For God shaped man in the image of His deity.
Then breathed the breath of life and gave him a choice of divinity.
Set him in a place called the world and created enmity,
Between Man, and the ruler of this world, Beelzebub, The Devil, The Enemy.
Now Man is trapped in the matrix, unable to see the God within.
Involved in life and given to fleshly sin.
Forgotten the promises of purpose and destiny.
I just whisper in his ears the words that I hear, remind him what I see.
I’m not seducing, or special or given to charity.
I just recognize The Queen in me.