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A Man’s Path is His Own

This is the first glimpse from The Mystic Muse – a new body of work I’ve been writing, living, and carrying for years. Part memoir, part invocation, part reckoning. It moves through memory, manhood, and the silences that shape us.

A Man’s Path is His Own doesn’t romanticize distance. It names what it costs to keep walking when no one clears the way – when love is real, but the blueprint doesn’t fit.

These aren’t reflections.
They’re footprints.
Mine.

~ Marquis Hunt

If a son walks long enough, the father’s footprints disappear behind him.

There comes a moment when a man must ask himself:

Do I belong to my father’s world, or do I belong to my own?

Some men never leave the house their fathers built.

Some leave, but spend their lives looking back.

And some –

Some keep walking.

Even when it costs them.

Even when the road ahead is dark.

Even when, years later, the silence between them lingers like a sermon that never quite found its benediction.

But I know this now:

My father loved me.

And I –

I was always meant to walk beyond his reach.

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