I met an old king yesterday he was
standing on the mountain side and
though he wore peasants clothes
his royalty he could not hide
nor his
grief
staring at the stars his old hand pointing
out the brightest by far
he told me of the skys secrets
and he says the stars lead to Jesus
another king?
and he crys as
he says I have wisdom but it
matters not for my children do not
believe my words I have
wealth but it matters not for
it's not enough to buy their love
and he whispers
my children do not love me
as we sit and watch the sun
fall he asks of my
knowledge he says he's felt the pain of a fallen
castle wall he clames sorrow is
wisdom's college as I
listen to his words of tears
he quietly confirms my fear that
no matter how you run and scream
terror is never just a dream
I have wisdom, but it matters not for
my children do not believe my words
I have wealth but it matters not
for it's not enough to buy their love
and he whispers
my children do not love
me I'm the only one who listens to his
words, am I the only one to listen to his
words?
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