Weighed down by a tempest of emotion.

Where do I begin in my thoughts. The composition is a form all it's own. A sentient awareness that overwhelms my morality. The path chosen to lead me here, without compassion. It's a bitter waking dream I find myself living within. A nightmare taken on flesh that walks in the hallways of my mind.

Choice. I've come to an impass that requires it. It's funny to think about all the choices I've made in my life. Where every simple moment of expression was lost to illusion. Such reaction come from this unexpected conclusion. Where do I lead my soul towards, a fiery form; or that of redemption.

Why do I fight it so fiercly? Every step taken, is one earned by blood. Every thought provoked by fear. This madness rips and tears at me from afar. Yet even should I stumble I see myself in a reflection; remembering what it means to stand tall.

Fight or flight, live anew, bring a broad range of experiences to my table. Yet to stand and fight, sacrifice all that I am, in a attempt to live free....

These shackles drag me down....

Weighed down by a tempest of emotion.