counting sheep

I sit back and watched the road spread before me, the interstate now had become a sore spot in my eye. So i decided to watch a movie, but i found a longing in my heart that would not cease, so my lips begin to bubble with words i could not begin to unveil. My heart is burning again, set aflame by those evanescent pearls called dreams. I am dreaming and my dreams are quickly swallowing everything. My heart is burning deep with the magma of hope. Hoping against hope, burning with the faith of my fathers that the impossible is but a simple word having no power and no depth; a word easily broken upon the breast of dreamers.

I am a dreamer and inasmuch as i bear such a great title i will do great things. They each has a destiny predetermined by God. I believe that is true, but i believe God puts the pen that writes that destiny in our hands and gently traces each letter with us, He knows their will be mistakes, but all the same he lets us write.

I will write, and in that writing there will be born a prose no man can shatter, a poem no man can plagiarize: a story written upon the hearts of a generation. A story of such power that it will echo in the souls of mankind for generations. Believe, Dream.

People say dreamers are usless, but i say their dreams are the yarn by which we knit our imaginations. My life may not see all these dreams come to be, but let it be said of this life

"he dared to dream the big dreams, and he went down fighting for them"

daring to dream,
Levi