Bound by a vow, I push forward.
No retreat in my blood,
No whisper of the past to cloud my vision.
The Holy Ghost grips me with fists of power.
Here I am, crossing the final threshold
A disciple with no rear view mirror,
No taste for the seduction of the slide backward.
I march with a gospel of bone and sinew.
What of the sweet sins of yesterday?
Trash, redeemed in the alley of my mind.
Now, my days make sense; they fall into line
Toward a future that doesn\'t quiver or question.
I\'m done with the penny-ante games,
The safe wagers, the nods at the knees.
My dreams burst their seams,
And my tongue scorns the chatter of the small-minded.
I renounce the podiums of the petty,
The scramble to be seen, to be crowned,
To wrestle with egos for the tiniest crown.
My battle is not to be right or revered.
I don\'t lust after the front of the line,
Don\'t pine to be haloed in the public eye.
Enough of the meager, the lukewarm goals.
Enough of the life on a leash, I am unbound.