✤ To stretch. . .

∴ You know, often times I relish in ignorance, to a degree. I gather into myself, and become stationary in the comfort of self-lies. Like with nature, bark starts to form around me, and I solidify. But every once in a while, something hits you, and you get to stretch, and come back to life.

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✤ When the light gets too much. . .

∴ Light is good. It allows us to see, and provides us with warmth. The hearth, the fire, the sun. . . they are all essential to life.
Still, though. . . sometimes, the light becomes too much. We see excessively, the warmth gets strangling, and we just yearn. . . for some dark, and solitude.

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✤ My place of rest. . .

∴ Everyone’s Heaven is different. . . for some, it is the city, brimming with life. The concrete flows through their veins like blood, and the lights echo in their words. For others, it is the wilds. The mountains, alone and uncaring at their peaks, bothered only by weathers most furious. The forests, bursting with life, too, but of a different kind.

I don’t know what my Heaven is. But if I am to choose a place to rest for now, I shall choose this old, run down house at the end of the road.

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✤ Web of lies. . .

∴ Her people had been friendly for days, now. Her, first and foremost, had always worn a smile, and brought offerings. It was with astonishment that he caught her sight, knife in hand and ready to strike. Thankfully, his reflexes pushed the shield up. . .

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