The Reckoning

The Reckoning is the extension to my series of my Odyssey Theories, The Theatrical Melodia of my life Chronicle 7.
>No longer was I going to justify my actions nor limit my strengths to search for Peace. There was no doubt in my mind that my ideas were flourishing, and the obstacles that I came across were nourishing my new beginning. Leaving me finalizing everything to early.

For those who solemnly swore were, always on my case returning to repeat report with an Evil eye. Leading me towards a brink of irrationality, trying to break free from that sense of reality. Where I freaked out, because I was being attacked spiritually.
>A hit on the run, where I returned hitting a home run, assuming I could recreate the outcome, delaying the mission was the only way out. All while entering the unknown, I found myself trying to fight my way through a dead end, labelling that death threat instead of cancelling it.
Trying to stay true to myself had me wasting valuable time too, waiting for that day, I hit Judgement Day. Only to witness when I arrived on the day questioned, I hit a hold up, went back in time, about repeat a crime. Framed again, a momentum where I had the chance to get justice from that freak show, a final blow,
.
Where I found one door opening, the other adjourned, locked shut, waiting for me to return and hit the corrupt. Because there was a dubbing, a double Agent in the mist of all Evil was summoning me. Laying the Law trying to lay me to rest before my time. Entering my Realm stepping on my boundaries while I was setting them, settling in, unwelcomed.
Stirring the pot wanting to pick a fight, warned to secrecy, to see when I will take the bait, for what they had installed for me was a challenge based on resolving a conflict, one I didn't agree too.
>Back where I started, heaving at every pardon, for knowing the truth didn't surprise me at all. For I built a sturdy foundation around that milestone. I was feeding off it periodically, holding a grudge refused to be used, abused left to suffer in silence because if it.
Misunderstood, mistreated made to be absolutely talented with fury. Feeding off me made them believe they had power to see beyond recognition. In fact, it was restoring my energy at every composition. They dispersed then burst, creating a war in my peace, where the jargon had me burnt and disgusted by the entrance.
Finalising a righteous passageway to Nomad, a piece resisting the truth just to cleanse my spirit. What a delay I hit, just to return repeat that gamble. Paraphrasing an opportunity to rewrite my testimonial my way. Leading those Agents towards a pathway of Heresy a travesty to gamble their life way.
Where the truth will set me free for that dispute that created the War in my Peace was a dead end, a final death threat making me out to be a fabricator no longer, just a fighter until the end, as I continue to ponder.
Amen