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Self Discovery: Steps to Freedom

Quit playing a man
If you know you’re just a boy.
Take a break from standing a stand
If that ovation isn’t bringing you joy.
We toy,
Far too often which that we don’t understand,
For awful reasons usually,
Like trying outrun the words of man.
“You’re too young, you’ll understand when you’re older”
“You don’t appreciate the warmth now, you will when its colder”
Each year my ego got bolder,
I was convinced I was that heroic soldier,
Battle tested or not, I would eviscerate the enemy,
Prove to my superiors I could obliterate the entities,
That stood between myself and perfection’s destiny,
And ultimate prove no one could fuck with the best of me,
So I launched into war,
Hacking through insurgent ranks,
Leading all charges, doing maximum damage to their flanks,
The only problem was my soul was still blank,
I was still empty, when I thought I had full tanks,
So I pulled tanks out,
50 caliber turrets leave niggas laying like planks out,
As an added measured I pull shanks out,
And cranked out the best damn effort a soldier could muster.
We still lost the war.
And I lost myself.
Or what I thought was myself.
This killing machine wasn’t me.
This jacked up patriot wasn’t me.
Yes a strategist, I was he.
But what to fight for this couldn’t be…

I was never in love.
Always in like.
Or in lust.
Or in-fatuation.
It has taken a year of express maturation,
To see this.
My constant saturation
Of love-lust was due simply to imagination,
I feigned that I felt deep.
To the point where I lost sleep,
Body mimicked symptoms of in love falling out,
Fuck the mind is a powerful tool.
But the spirit is powerful too.
And it senses that I’ve empowered two,
Separate entities who have towered two,
Distinct, discrete agendas at enmity with one another.
So under the cover of progression,
I learned my lessons,
Struck a blow to the head of deception,
And added peace and growth to my collection.
One master. Serenity.
For all time. Eternity.
I’m prepared to see my heart swim into treacherous waters again.
No longer jaded or berated,
Slated to fall prey to the baited,
Hooks cast out by those I wished I’d mated.
No. I’m linked to destiny.
Assuredness.
And assuredly I am free, or nearly,
From the tyranny of my own pretense.

Shackles, fetters, chains, cuffs.
Broken.

FKJR

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