Shaping The Mold

The sun has risen on my path again, a new journey has begun,

These rested hands cry out for my tools and my feet beg to run.

The stars dance as the clouds bow before my familiar gaze,

The breath of Earth spreads through the land and clears away the haze.

A new song has been sung from the lips of fate that draws me like a flame,

And now my tortured soul yearns for the birth of its true and final name.

My journeys before have forged my mind into a great and mighty tool,

But the trial that beckons for me now possesses its own secret rules.

So now that the mold is gone and my chains of rest have been sold,

It’s time to find my true self and bend the world so I can shape the mold.

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