Deadly Meal

 The wise man said, the wish of matastees like the soup of a King ready for war; Delicious and unsatisfying.

 It boils with all the deadly pleasure needed for victory.

The soul of man craves the breath of power under the auspices of self-seeking motives that cannot be judged by a slayed conscience.

Manly proclivity will travel to the moon for a stand of affirmation forgetting the earth harbors the vengeance of betrayal.

The stars will decree his uncertainty, yethis  ego will override honesty.

That meal that destroys family and loved ones, that drink that doesn’t temper justice with mercy; it jolts the innocent and makes them empty torturing destinies with endless sorrows.

Deceitfully curved and beautifully cradesiresesire cannot be altered per the description of the Wise man.