The young girl dreams of her valiant prince. The young boy wishes for his fair maiden. The young woman hopes to meet her match. The young man desires but a true tender touch. But even as we dream, and we wish, and we hope, and we desire, true love is only as the heavens will have it.
Drop the books, the pens, the paper, the thoughts. Empty the brain of all that had been precious until now. Unleash the glowing voice that had been bound by ink and pulp before. Throw out to the sun the hands that had been stained in tears and lead. Fly until the chains claim the soul again.