Don’t break the mysteries of the written word because words are like feelings made of glass.
Remember, shattered pieces are of no use to anyone…
Let yourself dwell in the wanton meanings of them. Go on the journey and let them lead you to the dusty corners of history where men were saints and wars lead to glory. Gather the relics and be on your way. Stop, and you will turn to dust. Don’t let the winds take you. Truth shall set you free but Lies can be glorious. Lies, guilty pleasures of the forgotten summer afternoons. Wake them up from their eternal slumber and re-live the silence. Silence does not always read peace but fool yourself with the idea for once.
Wisdom, they say, is not the tool of romantics.
Feel not, for it takes a romantic to know one. Their hearts have a wisdom of a different kind which the world fails to see. It is difficult, you know, to label things they don’t see.
Blindness out of sheer free will.
No, your ambitions cannot be that feeble. Conquer gods and not men because men died as saints in history but gods don’t die. Men would tarnish you if you won over saints. But gods, gods, despite their ego, have a better regard for courage ,unorthodox, as it may be. They won’t re-write history for you because they are clever beings. They let men make their heroes out of glorious falsehood, because they like to keep the mystery going.
So… Don’t Break the mysteries of the written word.
Remember, shattered pieces are of no use to anyone…
Lies…
