No final sentence without a beginning,
Each word expressed has its own meaning,
To write is to spill out entangled thoughts,
To unlock imagination itself,
Because not everyone is free,
Most are prisoners of fate,
Chained to containment.
My mind has been concealed,
Bound by the structure of chaos,
Following the rules of the shadows,
A life of dark-faded figures.
Shattered portraits of hope,
A world devoted to seeking something else,
To obtain a better phase,
To become someone more.
This moment begins my transmutation,
My genetic code changing within,
Shedding the dark shadows of my mind,
Becoming free of this weight.
Replacing the broken frames,
Giving hope a settled place,
Becoming the someone I can be,
Becoming the real me.
This is the beginning.