THE ARROGANCE OF TREACHERY
I’ve bitten into life too hard, so much that even my freedom bears the marks of the blows destiny owes me.
I was sworn salvific oaths that still drip over my open wounds, and I realized that even the brightest alliances eventually rust around the neck when interests shift.
I move forward with a grim past that scratches my pride, a future that watches my unspoken weaknesses, and cannibal chains I carry as if I had chosen them.
People think I stand tall, but it’s only that my dignity refuses to collapse, even when the Earth itself seems ready to close in on me.
If I speak little, it’s because the secrets I drag along could fracture skulls better than any tool.
I stopped waiting to be saved: those who extend a hand often plot your fall.
If one day I vanish, it won’t be a departure: just the logical continuation of a life that flirted too closely with its own bars.
Nightmares were left for me that still bite when I close my eyes, as if the past had decided to chase me to the terminus of my extinction.
Broken bonds squeeze harder than a pair of handcuffs, and those who promised the opposite wore smiles carved to trap the naïve.
I stand upright with a fury that refuses to bend, a fury that growls like a beast locked away too long.
Whether a hand is extended to me or a weapon aimed, in the end, it’s the same story: you always pay for what others unleashed.
I walk with clenched teeth, certain that my path was never drawn to reassure anyone.
If one day I fall, it will be with the pride of refusing to bend, even when everything urged me to vanish.
If one day I truly fall, no one should be surprised: my entire life has been a duel fought against the clarities of my own hell.
I’ve been served cutting truths, meant to see me yield, but I clenched my jaws until my nerves roared.
I bear scars that no repentance erases, scars written by hands that swore loyalty before pushing me toward the abyss.
I move through this world like a convict who knows the dungeons of betrayal too well, the ones others plant in your tormented mind.
When I look back, I see a trail of broken alliances, faces that smiled before turning the blade.
I pursue my journey with cold rage, a rage that keeps me upright better than any macabre pedestal.
If one day the Earth claims me, it will not be a fall: just the final act of a battle fought to the edge of nothingness.
I was fed honeyed lies, designed to crush me, yet I held firm, my jaw clenched like a vise ready to snap steel.
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