NEEDLEWRITER

Trickle, trickle little trickster, what have you done? You fooled everybody, yet they knew, the time will come. But for what, jesterman? The time for us to rise up, the sexuals, said long time ago the count Sexul the first. The mob could not stand but to shout „YOU ARE GUILTY, YOU, ONLY YOU!”
The poor count was at the target of the whole state, and their affairs. But why were you laughing jester, behind the count and playing your kings fool songs as they shouted, spat and threw things at you all.
They were supposed to be a revolution going on, weren’t they? Why did you fool them all? Why have you done it…..”WHY?” they screamed, those who did not know, but found out, and were amidst a confusion of choosing sides. Where to go, which way to vectorise onesself? They knew not – which side will prevail, should the poor trickster at least stop laughing behind as if they were nough, because they the mob, looked like saints and the rest wanted their power (because the count and his people looked weak in comparison to them). The mob could not resist anymore and started their march towards the counts castle. But the fool, trickster the wicked guy jester just pulled the leverage down and they were swiped away by a flood of water full of serpents that had their godly feast of the mobs screaming pile.
The count did have compassion, because tears appeared and have washed his face with him saying while suffering did his voice entwine „What have you done, to thyselves, my poor brethren!”
And the jester closed the leverage saying „ Our will is done, they are gone, we rule alone, till the time comes, the sun again shines, till we again revolt. against all lepery mob.”
And added „Be not afraid my master, we will find people, who will be godly as we. See, it is written in blood, our contract against them. May our souls feed with the nectar of nature, as you rule our kingdom come delivered. They rule not anymore, as we have come to Truth – they never did. Poor them, may I add, it is not my master even sad, to lose such unearthly beings and remove them from our sight. Theirs is no more any might over us, so let us endevour about your Throne, so I bow, and be assured they are gone.” And the jester laught himself away to his chambers, to the shadows of his rooms and left the count and his dearest people survive it all firmly grounding a new pardigm of rule.
Freedom to the people.

The end