Slowly, I will turn my limbs to iron. With this fire I will carve myself out of my prison.
If it takes a day, or a decade. I will be released.
I will walk a path across the world that shimmers with hope and determination.
I will create my own strength. I will end my own suffering.
If I falter or if I fall, I will wrench myself up and shrug off my weaknesses.
My heart will be made of fire and ice. Capricious, yet stolid against my foes.
Even if that foe is the reflection I see in the mirror.
I will crack my own facade and reveal the true self I keep hidden.
It will be glorious.
It will be me.