Rise.

A certain stigma of repressibility steeps in the lives of those who foresee potential as defeat. Societal demand, society pursues, being different— who are you?

Lacking repressibility, do you sleep?
Knowing feats that lay before you, waiting for you to wake.

Beauty, lie, beauty, conquer,
stigmata, you're overtaken– look at you, so weak.

Weak in your mind,
weak in your views,
where is your passion?
I'm no longer your muse.

No longer alone, your kingdom awaits. Your knights in tarnished armor, dictate and they shall speak. Like you, they sit, wait and decay. Like you, they suffer, welcome mediocrity, birth love of being dominated by leaks in the walls of suppressible success, tearing, cracking, gone in the hurricane force winds of my soul, so young, surpassing yours.

Societal demand of pure-fed minds, filled with corruption by credible sources, insanity swallowed by patronizing depths of self-worth; what do you love?

The idea of success, continuously evolving, creating, creators of self— do you know yourself?

Skeleton of dust, debris, you lack the passion to expand belief.
Open your mind, manifest drive, ambition, authenticity. What do you prize?

I am societal command of superiors alike, touch me and turn gold— feature presentation of dominance and inhibition, rise.