Rise.
Pick up your weight.
March forward or rot,
those are your only options.

There is no middle ground,
no comfort in halfway,
no glory in almost.

You were not created for comfort.
You were forged in the pit,
hammered in doubt,
tempered in failure,
shaped by every moment you wanted to quit
and chose to continue.

Now you want to stop?
Now, when you're this close?

No.

When exhaustion scream
ignore it.
When doubt whisper surrender
silence it.
When comfort promise relief
reject it.

Feel the resistance,
Command the continuation.

Move. Push. Become.

Finish what you started
or be forgotten as the work that almost was.
The choice is yours, my opus.

But know this:
I will carry you to completion
or I will bury you here.

OPUS MUTINY