Finally.
Completion.
A circle closing.
And a lone person standing in the center.
Bloody. Beaten.
Sword tipped downward in surrender.
Surrendering to the acknowledgement that this took everything.
This victory cost more than they reckoned.
It cost them peace, self-preservation, joy.
Their back is bent from the heaviness of others obligations as they toiled to best internal beasts that threatened their path of betterment.
It was so much harder with the unnecessary weight of outdated scripts heavy on the shoulders like boulders built in past lives.
They toiled under the yoke of ancestral angst refusing to be devoured by the shadows that threatened their light.
Ultimately they prevailed, but at what cost?
Accolades ring hallow in the halls of a mind wrecked by the echoes of ghost asking “what next?”
No time for celebration. No pause for basking in the finality of a chapter closing.
Only the void, beckoning for another chance to prove you are worthy.
You stare into it, seeing the future you under the boot of almost good enough.
Yet, this time, you turn your back, remove your helmet, and breathe…
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