The pride of the pack has emerged from silence; not a representation of slumber but of refinement, a humble reemergence. Welding my pen like a sword, naysayers are slain; doubters are ran through. All Challengers are left second guessing their next move, recognizing they are not confronting an amateur. Mountains are not obstacles, but merely anthills kicked to the side. My pen is the match that strikes the paper, allowing the fuel of thought from my mind to burn eternally in soul searching verse. But, to change the world is not my mission, to be on top not the goal. Raising perception, enlightenment, lust for life and love is the mission I pursue all to embrace. Fluid is the thought, easy to digest. Only blind ignorance regurgitates its message. So sad that it does, for within the message is the cure to ignorance’s cancer – knowledge.
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