When the Devil Holds the Leash

My eyes are heavy, but my mind won’t shut up.

There’s more here than anyone sees.

This blurriness feels like an omen—

a warning of sleepless nights

where even my will starts to slip away.

It always begins small.

A spark, nothing special, almost invisible.

Then it grows,

feeding on every dream, every bruise,

until it burns like an ancestral flame,

a promise of something bigger—

maybe glory, maybe ruin.

But it’s all still imaginary.

If success were easy,

it would sit on a shelf with a price tag.

Some are born holding it like inheritance,

while others grind themselves to the bone

and still disappear in the crowd.

Life was never fair to begin with,

But these circumstances make it unbearable.

What becomes of a society

when its preachers are corrupt?

When felony parades as justice?

Righteousness looks golden on paper,

but in reality, it’s a mask—

a false hymn sung

for the real diablos to revel in.

Success never comes with guarantees.

Deliverance rarely arrives.

’Cause when the devil holds the leash,

even angels forget how to fly.