Its a cold wind,frigid, bitter ice cold. Walking is becoming harder. How much longer to go? Feet sink into the soft mud of reality, dreams are getting further and further away. What is this thick fog that obscures vision? Losing the way is so much easier. The temptation to lie down is stronger, let the cushions of the ground support, lull to sleep. Hark! Comfort is a false warmth. Push on harder, we will make it to the land of our dreams and there alone we will rest our aching bones. Till then, escape the trappings of reality, soar into the skies and behold life for what it is, a stepping stone to higher places.
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