Choice

What is life but a fleeting moment of wants and despair,
of sacrifice, a revelation of desires, a useless exercise of
banality imbued in artificial theocracy.

What does the soul need, at least a semblance of permanency,
which there is none. This is but an existence of perpetual
yearning of one thing to another.

To remove the shackles of mediocrity one must first accept
the truth of one's own self worth. For its one's own self that
is the perpetrator of bondage.

No one else can take your freedom away until you let them,
a mind can be free even in chains.

The soul can soar, see light in the darkest pits, can survive
moments of deepest despair.

All that matters, is choice.

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