Oh gravity, what a tragedy

Why does the shadowing burden follow me wherever I go and demonized personifies in the present of evil?
It is only in the arms of love that the bird can fly but in the arms of oppression, the martyr is powerless and a victim of, what seems to be, forces beyond control. The antonym of perfection is the foundation to the barrier. Apparently abandonment is the right word, but I would rather have it be diss-perfection. There it is, I fear being diss-perfect and I sold my soul in an attempt to be perfect. 'I' am what I am required to be but how much of 'me' is left.

Dear entity, allow me to find a solution for retrieving my dynamic delirious state.