switch

they were friendly, cordial, respectful almost too nice. doctrines whispered, the north begrudgingly switched south and the captain had a glazed look when a soft push, a nudge, a well intentional advise simply went past the moat - into the heart. a pivot, a framework remade, new arms spread towards idols that beamed for attention, good servant come forth! and he did, albeit by an inch, then a foot, then a mile. north had since lost meaning, counterfeits look genuine, there was no difference, was there? the convert was made, a change in direction no longer needs pushing. they scorned, they became invisible, they retreated into their own fortress, something they never had. they liked it a lot, they like it too much. too much, and the convert found roles switched: his wails unheard when moats was deep, entrenched, his tactics to be seen pointless. the ones in the castle knew every trick, since they were the inventors, they wined and dined till sunset. it was happily ever after, the scales had now tipped into their favor. the betrayal seemed personal, it was not, nothing ever is when sky and earth are like chasms infinite. then the jungle song is heard, it is played, it is sung, it is chanted to all willing to see earth and sky for what they are.