A Pulp and Paper Fool

.:The Pulp and Paper Fool:.

Of this here land great tales were told
Of Kings of Time and heroes bold
But this concerns a single soul
Who had in mind a simple goal

Behind a wall is castle white
That sits like heaven in the night
A mighty tower reaching high
Sixteen turrets embrace the sky

Accursed is this castle's keep
Its beauty only skin deep
For here resides the King of Time
Who sits upon his throne of crime

Ten thousand people scream in need
But only one will pay them heed
A petty man not made of silk
Who eats but bread and cheese and milk

The Pulp and Paper Fool is he
Shut away, no one can see
His master is the King of Time
His Majesty, ruler sublime

One night the Fool sat in his cell
And wondered what became of hell
And with that thought he ran away
'Cause no one cared or held him sway

A Clockwork Angel guides his way
The Paper Fool goes not astray
With labour long he found the gate
But all he heard were screams of hate

Ten thousand folk were on the stairs
The Clockwork Angel whispered prayers
Decay and salt were in the air
How could the King of Time not care?

Ten thousand folk starved under eyes
Ears were deafened to their cries
Would no one care if suddenly
Ten thousand people ceased to be?

We are the poor and dispossessed
We have but one lone request:
Relieve us of our world apart
And lend us place in your blackened heart

The Paper Fool approached the gate
The threshold of this great estate
His Clockwork Angel told him why
These people cried out under sky

His mind began to comprehend
That he could be their only friend
And thinking he could bring them joy
Created he a simple ploy

The Pulp and Paper Fool ran back
But stumbled on a stony crack
The Brassen Bard, he watched him fall
And sniggered at the Angel's call

But Paper Fools know not defeat
He stood so tall with heart replete
He felt that he could fall no more
Until he knocked upon the door

The Brassen Bard hailed his call
The Paper Fool never stood so tall
Proudly he declared his intent
And here I start The Fool's Lament

The Brassen Bard spoke to the Fool
In songs and rhymes and manners cruel
The Bard, he said they weren't folk
Their form and figure but a joke

Their minds don't work like yours or mine
They only think of things malign
They don't belong with your or I
And will be killed with tomorrow nigh

The Angel cried a thousand tears
And rust destroyed her slender gears
And as the Angel fell from sky
The sky itself began to cry

Ten thousand souls cried out with glee
For from the rains Brass Bards must flee
But now the Fool was all alone
With Clockwork wings upon the stone

He was one of the dispossessed
And went to them to join their quest
He saw them not as unrefined
Our Paper Fool is dumb and blind

He does not know what it is to judge
He does not know how to hold a grudge
If all he feels is human face
Than all he gives is human grace

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then why is this The Fool's Lament?
Hold, my tale is not quite spent
One little thing our Fool forgot
Is Pulp and Paper Fools are not

Made like us, of flesh and blood and skin
And neither can we call them kin
He was a book left in the rain
If only you could feel his pain

As life and limbs were turned to mush
And his paper heart was turned to slush
And like a book left in the rain
His tale was lost in the paper's grain

When Ten Thousand souls died that day
The people felt no disarray
The only one that showed remorse
Was a Pulp and Paper Fool