God’s Tribute

A day in the life seems so normal, racing around to make ends meet. But is it fate to conform, to be pawns in play till infinity? Questions and doubts

A day in the life seems so normal, racing around to make ends meet. But is it fate to conform, to be pawns in play till infinity? Questions and doubts seemed out of step. For a snap was heard, and a pop ensued. The grip loosened, and vision returned. The world, so revered, crumbled and was nude. A robotic turmoil befell around, it was a rat race, and all hell let loose. Restrained in a bubble, their ball and chain, yet they remained blind to their occult abuse. Fear crept; my mind urged me to flee, but my heart stood its ground and fought firm to disagree. It was a tug-of-war, a game between mind and soul. To lift or leave was to choose between lilies and coal. Their bubbles were bulletproof, their chains concrete, and efforts were futile over a spell tempered by greed. An action further would bear no fruit. It was destiny’s oration; they were left to be. Ready to start a chapter anew, free to chase pavements, racing toward the North Star, escaping the life I knew. The dictator of my person, prepared to pen my book, I took the first step of a new life; of God’s tribute.

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