Was never the superstitious type,
Never placed myself with luck either,
It never decided my actions I decided it’s,
Always knew there was something beyond normal about me,
Found a group of misfits so I feathered up and joined the flock,
Now am stumping thoughts bouncing off ideas and dreams of being great,
Is it all fate or just an imaginarium built by my own words?
Is it possible to breathe life into my thoughts and make them live?
A battle with the skeletons in my closet,
Death met them with the sword,
Glance at the reality of the wicked dreams of my phantom,
Crooked smiles, hand placed on my heart while I sing my anthem,
Only the clouds can see the buried lies I concealed in the coffin,
The blurred lines paving ways for the truth in her courage,
A harmony of confusion synchronizing the evil lurking,
A feast for bandits searching for the lost scrolls of my tainted ways,
Stopped talking and started acting based on the visions of my beautiful fantasy,
Managed by the character I created solely for my reality,
Now I stare at my empire as the ghost of my failure packs his luggage to leave,
Frightened by the smirk on the faces of my achievement,
Threatened by the impenetrable armor of their immortality,
Farewell my ghost companion,
Take this epistle, it is a simple account of how I positioned my ladder to climb from tail to head,
And decide your fate.
I’m a winner.
The flip side is my tale of my success and how I defeated my fears and failure and sent them parking into oblivion.
Tafeeda and Einsteinette.