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