The Dreams of Fate

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He walks unknowingly, a path unknown but to his wildest dreams. A place of true fixture, a condolence only known to his heart at it's deepest morals and considerations. If but a walk, a short distance to the greatest treasure, may it be found in his heart without restraint. Among the trees of vague appeal lies the sunlit forest background, spectacles of leaf covered wind rifts transferring speeds through the branches. To see past the trees lay just beyond human dreams, but maybe if he simply climbed the trees just to get a peak.

It may seem the climb could have took forever, or simply a single moment in time to reach the top, sunlit enlightenment revealing the universes seemingly greatest secrets. Had it be seen from the west, one would view the most glorified rising of colors undefined by human standards. If from the east, the universe setting in shows of particle frizzing among the waves traveling amongst the settling skies. The tree's branches and leaves grazed along the man's limbs and extremities, feelings overtaking him as he was found in completed wanting of the pursued destination just before him.

The universe stayed in motion from the man's stance against the bark below his feet. It was as if his very body was the very planet in and among itself, the distant waves crashing along the rocks far, oh so far below him. The smell of the air above the trees, pure and of a spiritual fantasy unfolding all around him. This was tattered by the long look downwards at the the salty air thick breeze flowing effortlessly like a turtle, damp and cold but slow and patiently wavering. Standard collaborations of mental continuity savoring motions of crescent shaped human movement and frenzied polarization, he most assuringly knew right then.

The climb was so effortless, and the blue and black tinted multi-specced skies began to change, air becoming words of wisdom. It was quite radical as he watched his entire atmosphere change into shapes of cuneiform, of English and Spanish and German among so many others, waiting for what was to come next. Upon his utmost attention and closer inspection, the letters and shapes became phrases of tangible evidence respecting the beginning of time:

"Repair me...time and world direction es suave para tu...Vida es muy bien concerning my life as a whole...was it not for the concept of das ausleuchtung known as my life. Heal me...para mi es Los maladie qui va detruire ma propre livelihood...Gracias...tu es mi vida...Be blessed."

Those words rang true, ageless times of poverty and wealth, of peace and destruction, all culminating into a pool of mixture and might. He thought just how contagious the wisdoms of the ancients could so inferably be, a steady development of right and wrong in all it's appeal. After some time in the skies and clouds of time, it was time to step back down, the wisdom now earned and shown to be true. The young man took this time climbing down to think over the journey that was bestowed upon him, ready to walk the new paths with certainty and grandeur.

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