Abolition of the Beast

Where there is death there is birth... and as with however many ends, come incitements for new beginnings.  May the same ring true to even the most native dominion, one's self.  Death to the beast within, the agent provocateur!  And from the smoke and ashes may there rise a magnificent Master.  To be no longer adrift among the years of oppression, abuse and torture, but instead,  unshackled, untamed... and given away as an orphan to a Renaissance.

It is all within his grasp and sitting before him the glory that which awaits.  Yet, he hesitates... Why?  Perhaps he is in disbelief.  Or perhaps, maybe, he is still numb.  Or perhaps, maybe still, he questions the surety of his release--the guarantee of freedom... and that which comes without receipt .  For the years of oppression still ensue and reverberate through his bones like a beaten dog remembering through muscle only.  His nerves still severed and resonate traumas.  And still, by some miraculous design of nature they instinctively strive to regenerate, reach out, reconnect and repair.

That which awaits him is magnificent by any measure.  Truly a treasure to behold.