I'm stepping over:
I'm gone.

I've crossed the line
of being shackled down,
I've torn it up
and split the ground.
And not thrice, but twice
I have done so as of late.

And no longer am I Atlas,
hunched straight over,
the weight of the world on my shoulders,
but I am Prometheus.
Strong, and fortified,
bending under nobody's will but my own.

I am a fury, I am a fire,
I have unlocked all my heart's desires.