Children in the Hands of a Greedy Father

Children in the Hands of a Greedy Father

            Woe be to the blind child bewitched by loyalty, beware O descendant of nearsighted devotion.  For the hero whom you have devoted your life to has little care for your affairs, your life, or your love.  Your family is ash, your loved ones are dust, everything is expendable to him, even your trust. So be cautious child, your maker is false, lying and deceitful.  For it is not enough to merely bring you life, he must alter and control it as he sees fit.

            For your life bears him no fruit and that is not his goal.  In his mind every action must bring in more to his domain, more riches more splendor more trophies galore.  His gullet grows big, his pockets grow fat, and all goes swiftly according to plan.  Profits increase and pay soars high, life could not be better in his broken mind.

            But what of you, broken and sorrowful child? What of your life, your joy your dreams and your hope? You have been deceived, not only by him but by yourself!  All those years he told you of his generosity, those constant reminders of his unwavering love and you believed him! You sat there with wide eyes and an open heart and let his lies worm into you without the slightest of doubts.  And here you lie, bloody, broken and bruised with pain in your soul and tears in your eyes screaming “Why father? Why oh why?”

            The answer is simple really, painful but true.  You thought yourself as a person with rights and purpose.  But it is not your opinion or input that matters, your life revolves around him.  And within his eyes you are but a piece on the board, a tool to maneuver to be told where to go, where to fight and when to die.  Your existence is conditional, your sacrifice a means to an end.  The game is violent and cold but the suffering of the pieces matters not to the victor.

            For that’s all that matters to your merciless commander, the victory, the goal, the end.  Your approval is obsolete; it contains no weight or meaning.  So run around good little solider and do as your told, resist and you will perish, question and you will die. So dance little puppet as master pulls on your strings, just hold your nose as he offers a trade with shiny new things.  Bite your tongue as he flaunts you to the world, his pride is a front, a lie to pass the time. 

            Try to run and he will snap your knees, try to hide and he will burn your cover. Scream your opinion and he will crush your throat, reach for help and he will scar your hands. For expendable as you are he still has use for you and your absence is a flaw he cannot abide by.

            So bide your time and count your days, watch patiently as he begins to wither away.  Time will pass as his empire falls, just smile and relax while the pillars crumble.  Greed fades to poverty, gluttony gives way to starvation, pride collapses under the weight of regret.  Realization will strike him but only too late and finally he will scramble to escape his fate. Ignore his cries, he paid no heed to your own, shrug at his pleas, he never flinched at yours.  Leave your chains they will be rusty and old, abandon your shattered cage and step away in triumph.  Never did he care and neither shall you, for in his pursuit of power he ruined not one life but two.  

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