The Wanderer and the King

"I tread upon the paths of the righteous, and the foolish. I see the success, and the failures of the great men of our time, and of the past. Like statues, ancient moniliths of an long forgotten civilization they stand. The ground beneath my feet is cool, the sky, a beautiful magenta as the rising sun brings forth a new day upon this world. A warm breeze slowly caresses my face, gently weaves through my hair, and engulfs my soul. I see the paths of the reckless, and the careless as they go on a careening path to nowhere. My soul aches with a longing question that haunts my dreams and my very soul "Where does my path lead me?" My soul seeks an adventure into the unknown. To relive ancient kingdoms come and gone. To see the past through an open mind, and a fresh heart, a deepened soul. The crowned kings of old painting portraits with far more beauty that anyone could imagine. The piper, the servants, the jester all listen as their king tells them tales of the ancient times far beyond the memories of those alive today. All of them in that court of alabaster and ivory go to their own dwellings with dreams far grander then any paintbrush could create on the canvas. They dream of heroes, of journeys to a distant unkown, living in their imaginations as it engulfs them like a wave upon the shore. They dream a peaceful dream, of light, and color and splendour. The have been blessed on this, the night of nights. The lucid dream they see, live, love; it moves them, it moves their souls. It moves them all to a far greater understanding of this world, of its innonence, beauty, and its soul. The songs of the ancient race fill their hearts and minds; Their cup runneth over. They see with glistening eyes far more then any mortal could ever see. They see riches far grander then any man could wish to possess. They go on a journey to discover life, to discover hope, to dream. They race upon wind hewn lawns, telling tales under the moonlight, and the starlight. The campfires dot the horizon like a great gathering of fireflies. Even on the brink of destruction they stand, united together by a common hope, a common dream. They dream the dreams we all share. Their dreams more vivid then any reality, then any spectrum of beauty and nature that has been, or ever will be on this earth. They live their lives upon a chosen creed: Love is everlasting, peace will unite the people, and life will always find a way."