Once a herald for a crown of thorns,
Now a collector of old impressions,
Disgraced by the mirror I vowed not to be,
I wander unbounded from my old shoes, I am free.

Here is the tale of a young autumn leaf,
Destined to perish yet obstructed by self grief,
Claim me Lilith, I can't stop the wind's thrust,
Might I become his pareidolia, who's jealous of the jealous god.

Believe me when I tell you I will make it happen... somehow and somewhen. In all contexts: struggle, ambition or an agenda of any kind. LIVE!