There is a weight you are offered from the moment you draw breath. It is not the weight of stone or steel, but of expectation. Of a path already walked by a million souls before you. They call it a crown, a duty, a destiny. But in your hands, it feels only as it is: a chain.
The Forge of Another’s Design
This chain is forged in the fires of “should.” You should walk this road. You should bear this title. You should want this version of victory. Its links are polished by the hands of kings, parents, and peers, each one a well-intentioned shackle. To wear it is to move through the world with a ghost at your heels, a phantom life pulling you ever backward.
Many accept it. They learn the rhythm of its drag and clatter, until the sound becomes their own heartbeat. They forget they were ever born without it.
The Tremor in the Soul
But you. You feel its cold touch and your spirit recoils. This is the first, the truest rebellion: a tremor in the soul that says no. This refusal is not born of laziness or fear. It is the ancient, inner sovereign recognizing a foreign rule. It is the part of you that knows your battles are your own to choose, your armor your own to craft.
To refuse the chain is not to run from burden. It is to choose a different weight, one you are willing to carry into the darkest valleys of your own making. It is to declare that a life of your own design, with all its risks and potential failures, is worth more than a gilded cage.
The Unwritten Path
Without the chain, the path is not clear. It is unmade. You are the cartographer of your own fate, scratching the map into the earth with your own hands. The wind will try to erase it. Others will point to the paved roads and ask why you wander in the wilds.
This is the warrior’s true test: to stand in the emptiness of pure potential and not reach for the familiar weight. To trust that the strength in your limbs and the fire in your chest are compass enough.
The unworn chain is your greatest strength. Its absence defines your silhouette. It is the space where your true power gathers, unbound and entirely your own.
I vow to carry only the weight I choose.
To feel the pull of the unworn, and walk forward.
My battles are my own. My path is my own.
I am the forge, and the fire, and the unbroken line.


