At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
I want to hear the wind in the trees. Feel the sun warm my back. I want to see birds fly in a sky with no boundaries.
The Firethorn Crown
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I want to hear the wind in the trees. Feel the sun warm my back. I want to see birds fly in a sky with no boundaries.
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