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Masterless

Those who lay store by fate
are too weak to determine their own destiny.
I trust no man with my lot but myself,
that’s why I label myself masterless,
even God, whom I worship
is not my king, for
who shall I see after this?

Every object in existance eventually ends,
as is the truest nature of things.
Acceptance of this universal truth,
unlocks the portals of nirvana,
the tombs of eternal youth

And I cant help but wonder at what these are,
the secrets of the world,
potentially disastrous,
but after those secrets become common knowledge,
what becomes of us here after this?

Even though what’s forthcoming is daunting,
and my future is constantly stressin me,
and even though my darkest ambitions might steal away the best in me,
I know for sure that I can achieve nothing less than me,
I don’t need fate in this world,
because I put my stock by destiny.

The significance
of this arrogance
is confidence.
I need this thing here to succeed,

And so I’m quittin
the bullshittin,
I now put my heart in levity,
brevity,
always wondering what’s the
longevity
of my destiny.

I’ll find it in the depths of my personality,
though ill be forced to face reality,
my heart and mind together, my future is the one that sings,
I am my own master, I serve no false kings.

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Speaks for itself.

Never sure, but somehow always ready. Not dark. Just real.

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