DANCE PUPPET DANCE
Every puppet needs a puppeteer.Someone to bring them to life.The celebrities in Hollywood are being controlled by the most sinister puppeteer of them all...Lucifer.The control they have over the younger generation is very disturbing,and even more so when you see or hear the messages being thrown toward the youth.The actors,musicians,or anybody famous,have the ability to send positive messages for all to see.This is rarely the case.With subtle references to the Illuminati,pornographic images,and poses,song lyrics without any wholesome meaning at all,and introductions to"cult"based religions.This is not only aimed at the youth,but grown adults watch and listen,without knowing what is entering their minds.I could go into examples of what I am writing about,but I implore you,turn on your television with a careful eye.Turn on your radio,and pray for protection.You will see...Do not buy those shallow magazines with every moment of celebrities lives,smeared all over the pages.There are a lot bigger things to worry about in this crazy world.I am not saying you shouldn't watch t.v,or listen to music.I am saying to do it with the awareness,as so you are not manipulated into the strings of that evil puppeteer.Everyone wants to be a part of the elite...Though,as many people that are programmed,and conditioned away from God,it is the ones who keep a spiritual guard up,who are for sure the elite.
TWISTED PUPPETEER...(a poem for the masses)
Weak little puppet,believe your t.v.
Mother media,People magazine.
You are not pretty,unless you are me.
Give up on yourself,and let me pull your strings.
The clothes that you wear,the paint on your face,
are of my design,all of my taste.
Walk how I walk,say what I say.
Do as you're told or I'll lay you to waste.
After the curtain falls on the stage.
When the crowd leaves in disgust,and disgraced.
After I've drained every ounce of your faith.
The strings will remain,but the puppets replaced.
Mother media,People magazine.
You are not pretty,unless you are me.
Give up on yourself,and let me pull your strings.
The clothes that you wear,the paint on your face,
are of my design,all of my taste.
Walk how I walk,say what I say.
Do as you're told or I'll lay you to waste.
After the curtain falls on the stage.
When the crowd leaves in disgust,and disgraced.
After I've drained every ounce of your faith.
The strings will remain,but the puppets replaced.
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