Maître de langue

Someone else taking your words so that they have the strength to say their own can be their greatest downfall.

Down the long-lost winding path we venture,
A course we choose without an end in sight -
So we hope for one. A wild conjecture
Blinds our eyes as if we're shrouded in night.
What one looks for is lost in translation
As words have no value except with you:
Commander, maître de langue, frustration
That my value to you is false, untrue.
Hearing your footsteps echo, your stride strong;
I know you shan't wait so listen to me.
Just mark these words, because I am not wrong -
Watch down this path, it winds inside you, see.
        It is possible to lose yourself there -
        I already have. Please, take note, and take care.