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.
Such a fresh young flower, brimming with sweetness and hope. Such a fragile old weed, beyond all sense of reason and beauty. We all reach this fate, we all once were, we all will fade, but only some will leave a glow behind.
It's as if my brain is too big for my skull. It's as if the very sounds themselves will cause my mind to break. Such is the power of words wrought of emotion, even if those words aren't meant for these ears to hear.
I regret, but I will look forward. I will keep moving, even without you here anymore. But that doesn't mean I don't think of you. I think of you, perhaps too much. I want you to live, even if it's just in my thoughts.
I want to believe that I am superior to the foolish beliefs of the people of this Earth, yet I know that I am just as foolish. Am I allowed to blame the people around me?
Maybe if I try again, I'll finish it this time. Still, there have already been so many beginnings that I can't find the one I want anymore.