Winning Stance

Solid white gold heart anchored in void-zone, rising from the ashes and covered in muck, trudging against the wind that cuts but cleans with pressures coming in from all angels. Penance and pain, ritual gains, headed for an advantageous position I pray, yet I prey upon the imps that trick me into thinking they are giants, when they are more like trolls. They taste bitter, so I take them with grains of salt, a dashing advance up the mountain of growth, I am sustained by good choices. Tell tale signs of resistance pounding out the knots in my body, relaxed by the struggle... Challenge accepted.

I rule here. I make and take measures, I am the governing authority enacting judgment in this sacred sovereign space, this hell of my own design. I am not me. I am you, all who attend my presence, I am a myriad of back doors and secret compartments which all lead back here, where I dwell... In the source-point of perception that separated me from nothing. I am hiding behind the scenes, where you don't see. I am not me. I am you who forgot to just be, because justice just is. Sew, when you decide to choose choice... end when you remember who you are... I will be there waiting to tell you a secret.

Come undone.