I struck at the world

I struck at the world in mad rage,
which reached back in kindness,
with its infinitely wide visage,
yet I couldn’t accept my blindness;

why mould me into their image,
I will not bow to their highness,
and will never share their cage,
uncouth I’ll never know their finesse;

I am human and share the same page,
yet will never shun the inner brightness,
and will tear evil, mighty power’s camouflage,
for that in myriad ways shaping my fitness;

end not count, where, how travel, nor farewell,
but along path, how far love and truth dwell.

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