What is your deepest desire?

To create an empire, built on a divine plan to transpire an ire multitude of worshiping idols?

Things that might seem mogul became a infatuation from multitudes.

Every nest wants to produce a King of Kings.

Yet do you possess what it takes to be seen as royalty?

As I place my hands on the table and stare down as they’re filled with blood.

I evaluate my actions…

Has my thrown been concocted by blood diamonds, or yielded by the till of the Earth?

I want my moniker to bring supreme respect and infamous tales for generations to speak when it’s all said and done.

So my offspring can carry on as my corpse ages beneath the ground.

Place my crown on an alter not to praise.

To remember and continue to pave a way.

Pave a way for motivation and grace.

So the next generations will have a blueprint of success emplaced.

As I lay down and sulk these thoughts into existence, I ask my master to give me the true blueprint.

My hands are filled with blood.

From digging.

Digging the ground to plant my seed.

Any blueprint starts with a strong foundation.

As time goes by I will water the earth and watch my roots branch out.

Slowly but surely following a path I’ve found.