What Is Progress

By Palmetto Ambush

Progress is real—until it isn’t.

It smiles in your face, then tests your spirit.

It builds you up just to strip you bare,

Makes you beg for more while gasping for air.

Progress is tough as it is sweet,

It breaks your bones before your feat.

You’ll curse the climb, yet crave the height,

Because pain feels holy when wrapped in light.

Progress flirts—it’s lust in disguise,

A promise whispered, a thousand lies.

It makes kings crawl and dreamers bleed,

It feeds on hunger, not on need.

Progress is envy wearing a grin,

The mirror you fight but never win.

It’s the game of gods, the curse of men—

You reach the end, and start again.

Progress is cruel. Progress is divine.

It’ll take your soul, but say, “You’re mine.”

So chase it, love it, lose your way—

Because without progress… we decay.