Prev.: The Master: V
My ink does not paint me as the master
of your soul, of your spirit.
You are the master of yourself.
My ink merely reminds you,
my strokes merely show you
what you may fail to see, at times,
and yet it is so.
All of you is you and yours
and you sit at the helm of self.
Craft a life you will be happy you lived.
Read here all six poems of The Master poetic chain.