newborn king arrives with no tongue
can barely catch his breath, from his one tired lounge
active and creative
he danced to the rhythm of the people
as they fed their applause
he manipulated his tools to tell a story
but hid them deep
whenever someone tried to peak
this king is now still growing big
unable to process where the current of the wave is taking him
to a cliff?
to an end?
he trusts his accomplices and believes in his future
-he jumps-
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