We are but mortals, living in a life that will end untimely.
But as the spindle fibers of our minds enter twine,
I can’t help but see
That the world we live in is not one persons but all.
We are only guests upon this rock.
I look out my window to see the sun crawl over the mountains as birds fly past. As a perfect picture on a post card that I can only dream to afford.
Life IS the miracle we can only dream of.
So I live my dream, My fantasy everyday.
Hearing the WHOOP WHOOP of family pierce the horrific night.
This is my life
My time..
So I pass it on to you.