true to yourself
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Along the road of the merciless my feet bare, cut, callused drifting upon the dirt
The itch I have long chased has been a millennia
Making the journey wearing the shoes of travelers before
Layer upon layer of masks.
One small, one red, one plagued with faux happiness.
A mask of royal purple.
A mask as silver as starlight.
The streets are crowded with personalities, each one unique as a gem.
