Amongst the dulled murmur, a clear song rises.
Even as the chains bind our arm, our hearts soar free, only hindered by the limits of our imagination.
Hearts beat thick, yearning for the starting gun, which will send us into our adventures.
They say life is only measured by death and light only by dark. I spit on that idea.
How can you call a pane of glass broken when it is only scratched?
How can you throw away a white sheet when a speck of your own blood has sullied it?
To be sure our world has been broken, but it is by our doing.
We can heal this world.
I tire of the naysayers always consumed with the end of times and the destruction of this green earth.
We live in a land of life. We abide in the realm of hearts still beating. Should we not live for that?
Live for life, not for death.
We are enveloped in beauty. We are surrounded by love.
Adventures lie before us, which can only be stunted by our agendas.
We sit in chains we have forged and blinded by masks we have put on.
We say we cannot see a way out, yet we cover our eyes with our hands.
We say we are crippled, but we’ve never tried to take a step.
There’s a world out there, unsullied by you or me.
I hear the whispers of it in the warm summer wind.
I see glimpses of it in the winter sunrise.
I read it in the sonnets of lovers.
I feel it in the embrace of a companion long lost.
What if that world of life isn’t leagues away?
What if the quest for elixir of life would only lead us to our doorsteps?
What if dreams unhindered, hearts unbroken and hope still shining were within your reach?
Wake up to your life. The life you live now.
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