Free

I am free

Free from the expectations of others

Free from the weight of others opinions

Free from the voices in my head that aren't my own

Free to live how I choose

Free to make own decisions

Free to go after what I want

I am free to be me

Tortured(?)

    A man was bound to a chair, bloodied and beaten. His head hung low and his breathing was slow and raspy. He was sat in an abandoned building, with the only light coming from sparse fluorescent lights. Footsteps echoed through the abandoned building as another man approached. He wore a suit and was stone-faced as he looked upon the bound man.

    "Are you willing to talk?" The suited man questioned. The man in the chair scoffed and raised his head,  facing the suited man with a smile.

    "Yeah... Yeah, I'm willing to talk..." The suited man slightly puffed up at his achievement.

    "Though," the interruption stopped the suited man, "there was a faster, more efficient way to make me talk." The suited man seemed intrigued. "You could have threatened to delete my videogame process." The intrigue on the suited man's face deflated and a scowl replaced it. He drew closer to the bound man, irritation radiating off of him.

    "Talk." You could tell the suited man had no more words for the bound man.

    "Alright... Alright..." The suited man tilted his head. Was it from curiosity? Intrigue? A deeper inspection of the bound man? It was hard to tell. The bound man then took a deep breath.

    "Man... Yo breath stank. Smelling like you been licking hobo ankles. Yo shoes dirty, shirt wrinkled. Yo hair matted - looking like rats made a nest up. You're so raggedy, you make crumpled paper look neat."

    The suited man took a long pause. His expression indiscernible. Did this sudden roasting push him past his limit? The suited man suddenly burst out laughing. A hearty laugh that came from deep within. A laugh that melted tension within the suited man. This response surprised the bound man, disturbing him more than if the man snapped at him. While stilling laughing, he then placed his hand on the bound man's shoulder.

Potential

That kernel of light which shines so bright

Shining brightest in the young and the wounded

That kernel could bloom into something as grand as a world tree

Or be a simple oak tree that shelters those in need

That's the beauty of potential

Of that shining kernel that could bloom into anything

A rainbow of possibilities

A multitude of magnitudes

Endless branching pathways

As Foretold: The Prophecy

    Three decades before I was born... A prophecy was told by the kingdom's sage before the entire populace of the capital...

    A warrior of great power will rise from the dust of the kingdom... This warrior will wield light which will guide the kingdom to a bright future..."

    Hearing these words, the kingdom's people rejoiced, interpreting the prophecy as one of hope. An end to the rampage of monsters. Word of the prophecy spread across the kingdom and even to the people of the tribes.

    Though looking upon the face of the sage, it could be seen, that there was more to the prophecy than what he had stated...