A dream is only but a vessel. A container to hold you hopes and wishes. Floating across a sea of chance.
As we grow, our dreams rock to and frow, collecting thoughts and ideas. However as dreams make make their journey they lose truth.
The mind of young is honest, but it will fade. Dreams disappear as one wakes as dose innocence, and all one keeps is the memory.
Of that witch they desire. Of that witch they long.
Time is a storm, a hurricane if you will, Time plays with your dreams.
Time will rip apart your dreams as they crash against the waves of reality. And in the sea of chance, the wreckage that was once a dream wither either sink a
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