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By bossy boots Date: 2007 May 28 Comment on this Work [[2007.05.28.17.14.3739]] |
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17/3/2007 He no longer wanted to be told what to think nor how to act nor what to say. He dared to rebel against the world he felt confined in. It didn't matter what he saw, heard or spoke and all what mattered was the way he felt. He just wanted to break free, to feel his spirit soar. He dared to close his eyes to escape his reality. He dared to be a dreamer, one pertinacious enough to believe he can make a change. A fugitive he was called by many, for they thought he didn't want to face his world, little did they know that he was trying to make a difference. They said he was heading down a road to nowhere; he just didn't care, for he had given his heart to dreaming. He preferred to be blind, deaf and mute rather than living without feeling, for it was his heart that drove him, pushed him to caress his dreams, causing him to repel all the negativity around him. He'd go to a place in his head where he'd expand his vision, open his mind, where he could embrace the entire world, and where everything was in the palm of his hand. The dreamer he was, he had the guts to face his fears, to go places where no one would dare to go. Fed up of living like a slave, he broke all shackles and chains; he set himself free, for he had defied the world. He found peace, far away from this sick and twisted world, he found himself, in a place where no lies existed; where all masks of deception were taken off, a place of simplicity, far away from all complications, where dreams on the edge of a mountain of souring high were possible. He had them wondering about him, he left them tongue tied, yet he gave no explanations for he never said he could change the world, he just believed he could if he tried. |