Your Raj and his entourage

never make your secrets free for your foes to hear
lest the first thing be that you’re brought to your knees and instructed to fear
since silence is safer for your hopes to remain clear
than your own hands be used against your own garments to sheer
because others become queer when they see you as sharp as a Spear in a world they try to keep for themselves to steer
theyd  rather have you be below as a dainty little peer
and be furthest from near–
lost, looking for the treasures in a mirage
stuck at the rear of an hourglass
placed as the jewel on the taj of the friend you hold so dear
whose claimed himself Raj
and  imprisoned you as his forever entourage

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