Numbered Swaddle And Cobblestone Poem by Enchanting Owl

One, two... When I open my eyes for the first time, the world is blinding.
Seeing the countenance of my  maker is a great meeting.
Limited in my ability to do anything for now, but I am ready to break free.
Taking my time to do great, taking my time eating my favorite puree.

Three, four... I can now walk with my feet, ready for any challenges.
One step at a time, one niche to take, and one toy to salvage.
Eager to vanquish, I am learning to profile my skills and talents; it is my ascendancy.
Swiftly as the cheetah, running for my truth, battling for my dependency.

Five, six... I am rearing with passion to explore, to conquer, to win.
Penning my bucket list, eyes full of shimmers, breath out, breath in.
No one can stop me; no one can be a barricade. There's only one inevitable delay,
The gravity of this person is strong and magnetic, and I was betrayed.

Seven, eight... I learned that the world is full of reason and questions.
Laws made by men are killing the faithful and their devotion.
Loved to persecute, drawn to the dance of treachery, and enchanted by the song of subterfuge.
The black and white of life is evident and limpid; all are seeking for smooge.

Nine, ten... I want to rest forever, resting my case, resting my plea.
All riches and all pleasures are meritless. Pray on my knee.
Collected enough gallons of pain, memories, jars, and kisses that all I want now is catnip,
Preparing my perennial slumber's my epiphany, I have a hard grip.