As movies and drama series often ask you to
believe that their stories are fictitious, and that the characters are those of
the imagination of the writer, then this is too. But a word of warning, if one
of these occurrences appears to be something you have witnessed or are
experiencing, please seek help for either yourself, or the person, you see in
the story line.
In a time when through death most people are
unified in their grief, we watch as family and friends alike are divided
without support, without compassion, without resolve and indeed without
closure.
Instead these mourners try to fathom the depths
of evil of this little old lady in the beret.
They stand breathless, hopeless, and in total despair as to how this
shriveled up old person could have woven her incantations on them and her
victims.
Ten years of love and friendship eroded and
white anted. Ten years of dividing and conquering relationships that were built
of rock, respect, and generosity of the heart Ten years of breaking someone so as
to control their very being. Ten years of building her cult - handpicked
disciples of evil.
The outside appearance of this three time
married, doting mother was nothing but a veneer to hide her heart of thorns and
broken glass. That veneer was as impenetrable as titanium and as cutting as a
diamond blade. Those that attempted to love in a human fashion were soon beaten
to submission to adhere to the rules of the cult and its leader.
The rules of this cult, which by all purposes
was to appear as a normal family with the highest standards of love and
integrity, was merely a sham for worship, praise, adoration, and thankfulness
to be in the angel of deaths presence. For the privilege of being part of this
club, members needed to totally believe every word she uttered in her address
to her people. One must never doubt the
supreme leader for fear of retaliation and humiliation.
One must worship her as if she is the very essence of the meaning of love. Her soul and her heart is to be the temple of which her followers must strive to enter its doors. And believe it, she will not allow entrance unless she is the very shrine on which you worship.
One must worship her as if she is the very essence of the meaning of love. Her soul and her heart is to be the temple of which her followers must strive to enter its doors. And believe it, she will not allow entrance unless she is the very shrine on which you worship.
Let it also be known, that her children do not
immediately inherit divine entrance to her tabernacle of evil. They too must
bow to their dominatrix of power and corruption. To attempt leaving her
controlling manipulative arms is to be exiled to a million humiliations and to
publicly be stoned at the foot of her temple. No friends, no family, no joyful
baggage, unless by proclamation from the divine ruler, must enter her temple
walls.
On marrying the high priestess of pain and evil,
her new consort will be hypnotized to believe that to live side by side her will
be a life of joy and happiness. However as the ink dries on the wedding parchment,
he is lulled into biting that apple as was given by that little old lady to
Snow White. The people of his previous kingdom are shut out slowly but surely.
The family and friends of his kingdom are exiled and his armies are depleted,
discredited and forced to retreat as her spell takes over his very mind and
soul. He becomes powerless and his mind
so brow beaten, he must obey or face her wrath. He succumbs to her spell,
having no troops, no support, and no arsenal left in his reserves.
As time goes by this priestess desires the need
for a new lamb to be slaughtered at her alter. She needs to narcotize and rid
herself of this old sheep that has become tiring and too time consuming and
indeed no spring lamb.
Meanwhile, the consort’s battle weary family, friends and expatriates attempt to break down
the walls of the temple to free their narcotized hero from the slaughter. But,
by this stage he is too weak, too anaesthetized to accept their help. He has nothing left but to succumb to the
encyclical as written by the devil herself.
As his days are numbered, and he has outlived
his usefulness as consort, signed his kingdom over, and tightened her borders
from his family, friends, and fellow comrades, he calls on his sudden death to
free him from this mortal life. There is nothing left for him. She has depleted
his capacity as a man. She has
meticulously over ten short years gained total control of his very being as do cult leaders. She has
become his attorney of well-being, his attorney of time and indeed his attorney
of execution.
As the consort finally closed his eyes in peace,
and lay at the cold entrance into the afterlife, not once did the evil
priestess call on those that cared and loved him in his mortal life. After all one must realize their place. Only
she who must be worshipped, and glorified, must bask in his death. Only she who
has controlled his very existence, and calculated his demise, is worthy of
grief. Those left behind must realize
that the crocodile tears are a divine right and are cultivated so as not to wash
the blood from her shrine. She does, however, live from the blood that she has
sucked life from.
As his celebration of life was celebrated, his
weary followers were deleted from his life story. His family and friends were deleted from his
history. Instead, his hypnotic state was
glorified as per the hand of the devil, to only recognize her presence in his
life and, a few anecdotes from those that are of her faith.
As the days have turned to weeks, his cabinet of
followers and family has had memorials of their own. They have discovered that
this Priestess of evil has raped and pillaged many kingdoms before. She has built walls around each, and every,
kingdom that she has conquered. She has
taken many hostages, and until now, had tied their tongues so as not to
showcase her blood bathed Temple of Evil.
In the next few weeks we will discuss how this
Evil Woman has worked in a pattern. Her evil is calculated to the tee. Just as
a spider lures its prey to its web, just as a cat plays and toys with its prey
before finally pouncing, just as an assassin stalks his victim before finally
pulling the trigger, just as sure as night turns to day, the die is cast and
there is no turning back.
Her depth of evil is fathomless and that those
who have experienced her wrath must cling to what is keeping them safe thus
far.
 |
| symbolism.wikia.com |
Everyone is a victim of this priestess! Some simply
do not yet know it!!!!!!!!!
