Over the mountains, through the streams, until sunrise we travel. Into the darkness, carrying the light we were given from birth, hoping to find our way in the vast, forest of the world. For I was born in towards of Autumn, on the breach of winter. I’ve loved and lost, I’ve built and destroyed, I’ve been a beggar and a king, a warrior and a coward.

Such an oydess we live, an epic adventure full of trails, tears, battles, loves, joys, and beauty. For this life is not stable nor is it fair, but it is what we’ve been given and must take responbile in turning into something of worth and value. Though that might look different for each of us, I feel I am stil discoving my place among the great poets and kings and warriors both living and dead.

For what shall my story be? I haven’t any idea and perhaps will not known until they read it back to me in those great halls of marble stone, jasper statues, and all those who have gone before me.