Part I
There are parts of me I will not give you, Stranger;
But these parts are not many.
I have always been comfortable in vulnerability.
Or perhaps, I have weaponized it—
To destroy not kingdoms but boundaries:
Confuse the prey and ****** the predator,
until they are one and the same.
Part II
But if I expose my soft underbelly to anyone,
Can it still be considered vulnerability?
How must it feel to be scarred
Again and again
Battered and wounded—
Yet the flesh never hardens against incursion?
To have so much weakness so plainly to see
Easy to touch, even more to make bleed
Bear witness against the truth
Yet shatter all of the doubts—
What lies in the middle, then?
What will the law of averages reveal?
Is that soft underbelly truly so honest and real
Or is it another form of camouflage
Designed to mislead
As the fanfare protects the executioner?
Part III
The armor of insight is deception
Deception that strives to please
For distracting the audience is crucial
To being this kingdom to its knees
So in revealing the war strategy to her enemy
Can a commander be
Part IV
Just who is the enemy, and why does he lurk about?
GR, if you’re still here, don’t read into this one too much. It’s not about you.
The line about the fanfare refers to The Art of Worldly Wisdom by Baltasar Gracián, circa the mid 1600s
