"The Illusion of Control"

I walked this path believing my steps were my own, each decision carefully laid, each sacrifice justified. I charted my course with precision, endured the trials, and bore the weight of ambition, convinced that my will alone could shape my destiny.

Yet here I stand, on the edge of all I built, and the truth glares back at me—mocking, relentless. The ground beneath me, once firm with certainty, now shifts like liquid gold, erasing the path I fought to carve. The sky above whispers what I refused to hear: I was never the master of my own fate.

What I chased, what I bled for, has led me to the vast unknown. My plans are dust, my control an illusion. And yet, in surrender, there is a strange freedom. The winds rise, carrying me forward—not where I intended, but perhaps where I was meant to be.