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The Golden Crone: Tether

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Tether
I was too young to remember
When He offered me his hand
No cloven hooves or pointed tail
No guttural demands
Problem offered as a solution
A child’s white lie
It could be it went unnoticed
It could be I was convincing
Or, the truth was just too sticky
As I grew the steps came quickly
I never took the lead
I supplied the sorrow
He supplied the need
I followed every motion
Kept up at every pace
He always said he loved me
But would never show his face
The Dance took place of growth and health
No loving, soft embrace
I let Him sweep me off my feet
Allowed myself to float
One day I peeked down from the heights
to see me dancing with The Goat
I tumbled down
I turned the tide
He stayed right there inside
Pushing me
As I pushed back
strengthening my stride
Now, when the fiddle feels the bow
I never run or hide
I let the tempo reach for me
I extend my hand
Or, I may choose to take a seat
If the song’s unfit for me
The devil taught me how to dance
I taught myself to stand

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