Excuse the discretion of my deception. The magnitude of the images that you have been foretold, are less than an illusion. The truth of me has laid dormant for what seems centuries relatively, but decades soon form centuries The innocence I choose not to proclaim and the wickedness I regret it’s embrace. Fortified within it’s generational curse, persuasion was immanent. Coaxed with natural distrust the story unfolds. A prowess charisma understood, perpetuates greatness into self-destruction. Absent the discipline for abstinence and trustful of the pestilence of rigorous enjoyments. Mortified are the remnants of the core that humbly receive the accountability. Mutiny is erected for the dominance of the unawakened soul, with a spirit that buffers for the connection of its awakening. The soul is shaken with Overstanding the truth of the heart speaks with Enlightenment, to the elevating spirit, from knowledge of self. An introduction illuminated with endless ascension.