At the edge of a dull blade I teeter, cutting teeth with a vicious grin.

The road travelled is pain and sorrow laid brick by brick, but I am the mason of my creation.

The storm in soul beats against the weathered sails, only to remain contained momentum.

Breaking chains echo in the canyons of hope, only stifled by the death of dreams.

Light will tear through the darkness for a moment, for this is how I hone my blade.

– F. Sunseri


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