A direwolf. A cougar. A stallion. A griffin. A draggon. A warrior. And all of those beat with the same heart. Which is mine. I am a cry across the vastness of the dark sky. I am a wild wind roaming through the face of the earth. I am the falling leaves of autumn and the gust of falling rain. I am here and I am not. I ofttimes can’t see what’s in front of my grasp but I see a million light years away into another life, where magical beasts call out to me in the voices of forgotten loyalties, so loud I hear them in another time, in another matter, in another world where I am but a human, full of flaws and as powerless as an ant, and sometimes even less. An agony of different time flow, different values of no sense, different faces of no appeal and magic long forgotten. My cry is louder then all of my brother’s and sister’s. Yet no one can hear it in this world. No one but rain. My brother, my friend. The one who comes from so afar and brings me tidings of the worlds no one believes in. I don’t know who I am, yet I feel the power I have been bestowed with. The one that hasn’t showed yet, but I have seen it change the minds of many. I have seen things that haven’t been yet, but I’ve seen them as vivid as a daylight- and it’s beautiful. And I feel its every turn in my blood. It’s in my veins, in my heart, in my soul. I brought it with me from the worlds I hear. Yet it’s as if I am still an infant. I still grow. And I still lack something I feel but cannot grasp. I have stumbled, and I have been stabbed oh so many a time for reasons I know nothing of. What is it with human habits of stinging their own world and seeking difficulties on the plain spot. And why does it affect me. I forget as they forget. But I always feel who I am deep inside. It wakes me in the middle of the night. And I’m afraid. Of who I am. Of this world. Of waking up one day to the routine of nothing, able to hear the magic no more. Of being someone I am not. There is so much more to life than living. And I see it every time I close my eyes and make the world take shapes of wonder. And I pray that I remain a fairy creature that I am today. A song. A wolf. A stallion. An eagle. The rays of sunshine. An ancient dust. A morning chill. A bite of frost. A changing ripple of the tide. A guiding star. Excalibur. A hope. A warrior. That I have always been. And there is nothing besides fight that warriors do best but endure. And so I shall.
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