Essy The Poet

  I can’t begrudge you for luck, though you may seem lucky to many. I instead hail the epitome of stoicism that you have built. It is the real deal, the real legacy, the conquest of the flesh! Choking off the indulgence of desire, and aha! You. You are freedom made flesh! You are the unbroken, unbreakable record!   I can’t begrudge you for your childhood, though it may sound like it spoke to you. I instead applaud the strand that stood out, that escaped excuses. The refusal to be blown into the crowd of nothingness. The attitude of all and everyone that murders the individual, iro   Muren ! You are freedom made flesh! You are the unbroken, unbreakable record!   I can’t begrudge you your kindred, though now they shine through you.   I instead commend your intellect, that subdued the brawny inclinations. To sleep less and train more, to eat bland and to solid muscle grind.   The profound ire that detests sloth, and uh! Man… You are freedom made flesh! Yo...