ObservationThe Older Self
"They say age is a tether, but I walked toward the fire. Duty became patience, labor became craft. I did not shed the burden—I shaped it. Yet I feel him—his hands at the mask, his eyes searching for what I left behind. His toil gave me this freedom, his sacrifice built my ground. But these hands were once his, and the weight I carry is not so different. If he takes the mask—will I vanish? Or will he finally see what I have made?"0.1639%
