Trust Is The Taste Of Death

Trust is the Taste of Death

Give me your trust, said the magi.
On my shoulders I support the sky.
Trust me to know and to do what is best,
and I will take care of the rest.

But trust is the color of a dark seed growing.
Trust is the color of a heart's blood flowing.
Trust is the color of a soul's last breath.
Trust is the color of death…*

Give me your trust, said the queen on her throne,
for I must bear the burden all alone.
Trust me to lead and to judge and to rule,
and no man will think you a fool.

But trust is the sound of the grave-dog's bark.
Trust is the sound of betrayal in the dark.
Trust is the sound of a soul's last breath.
Trust is the sound of death

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