Chapter Seventy: "Watchwoman"

Straight Fire Out Of Smoke,
Nothing But Flame Through The Words You Spoke.

Since Day One Staying Ahead,
Ahead Of The Curve While The Rest
They Stayed Dead.

You Had Come From A Similar Place,
Dealt With The Same Issues,
But Now Looked At This Building With A Fresh Face.

As Brick By Brick This Prison Was Molded,
Each Corner Each Aisle With Past Secrets Holding.

Like A Body With Different Faces,
We Called This Place Home Now,
Left With No Old Traces,
Transformed Into A Lucky Coin,
Hoping To Bring In People To Join.

Then One Day You Mentioned Runner,
And I Felt The Walls Closing In,
How Small This Town, This Village Is,
The Past Just Shudders.

Sister Wants To Run Far Away,
Disappear Forever,
Start Over In Her Own Way,
And Maybe By Now I Agree,
Since There Has To Be Balance Between Us Three.

We Survive Each Day As A Team,
To What End, If We Are Stuck In A Dream?
A Fever Dream More Like,
Each Day Something Else To Dislike.

Until We Enter The Forest,
Sister And I,
Following Bread Crumbs,
As The Night Turns A Dark Sky,
Little Snacks Here And There,
Is The Witch Leading Us To A Confectionery House?
Are We The Lion Or The Mouse?

Feeding Us Words That Fill Us Up,
Out Of The Kindness Of Your Heart,
Or Are You A Cannibal Waiting To Tear Us Apart?

We're Not Used To Nice Things,
That Is True,
No Longer Kings,
But Monsters Through And Through.

So I'll Sleep With One Eye Open,
As I Throw The Rope In,
Hoping He Grabs On,
At The End Of The Day,
Lines Are Drawn.

So Slowly You'll Begin To Understand,
If You Haven't Caught On Already,
How Quickly Our Dreams Expand,
Inside This Famous Fable,
How Unsteady Yet Able,
The Kings Of The Round Table--
They Spin Out Of Control Like A Broken Electrical Cable.

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