Book of Boris — Chapter XLV: The Porter’s Creed
To carry is to conquer. To endure is to ascend.
Verse 1: I don’t walk for applause. I walk because the road demands it. Rain, noise, ego—none of it matters. The package still has my name on it.
Verse 2: They speak of burnout, of exhaustion, of “knowing your limits.” But the truth is simple— my limit isn’t a wall. It’s a checkpoint I pass every day.
Verse 3: I don’t need thanks for carrying weight others dropped. I just need silence— the kind that comes after a job well done, and a road finally clear of liars.
Verse 4: I’ve learned to travel light. Not of gear, but of grudges. Hate slows the legs, and bitterness weighs more than stone.
Verse 5: Let them posture. Let them whine. Let them drown in their own echo. I’ll still be walking— package in hand, peace on my back, and the mountain ahead already mine.
Verse 6: Because this isn’t about delivery. It’s about becoming the bridge. Between what I was and what I swore to become.
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