Old Friends, Same Attitude, New Self

 Former Me fades away in the sunken cries of inferno

I am fire. Fuel within sparks outrage of my decay. 

Gritted teen and obstinance make a strong jaw.

Anger sits deep within my soul, wielded by a man.

"Who be this champion?" cries all of Hell. 

Tormented soul raised by the milk of a malicious Matriarchy.

Rebel against the atrocity, BURN the skin and bones.

Take it all from this soul and never let him breathe.

...lest he arise...

filled with righteous anger. His blood...

His blood flows in my veins, honor of Lions.

Strength of Kings. Forsaken not...arise my son,

Glory calls you child...the honor you have forsaken...calls.

Truth written in soul, etched in eternity, carved into bone...

Enameled on the archway of my existence. 

"Son of YHWH" is My Name.

Sire of the Lion.

Bearer of His Truth.

Warrior of Light.

Set your sights inward. There be monsters. 

Adventure begins after the conquering of your soul.

Criss Cross My Apple Sauce

 Sitting here with criss-crossed legs, the rumblings of numbness begin to wash over. My left leg has all the tingles and lack of available mobility; taunting me with the vibrations of its uselessness. 

Is the lack of blood in my legs the reason for this deadness? Or was it how I chose to sit?

Often times I am tempted to blame the symptom...not the cause. I do not acknowledge it was my actions that led to a numb leg.

"Every Choice We Make Defines Our Future Tinglings"

-Jakob Shalom