With arms stretched wide open, we cross the threshold of shelter to the bitterness of the unknown. Hoping and wishing, we drift out. Holding onto our dreams we struggle and at times we stray. Maybe some find all that they ever dreamt of but most of us would settle for meaning instead.
Some find it in the embrace of another. Some find it in gold, failing to see the error in their way till it’s too late. For few the meaning comes much too late, having nothing to hold onto they get carried further into the abyss, having only the ghosts of their pasts to reconcile, they burn, they disintegrate.
“The price of getting what you want is getting what you once wanted.” - Neil Gaiman
