nothing is ending, nothing is beginning.
everything is falling apart.
nothing is together. nothing is seperate.
everyone must play their part.
one thing is taken, two are gained.
everything is our bain.
one thing is shapen, another is maimed.
everyone is born again.
your wings could not fly if the eyes did not lead them, nor could they soar if your ears did not guide them. How can you see through your fog without your eyes, un-couded as your mind may be? The world you see and saw and will see would not exist as such if you did not partake in the most minute of ways. I don't see what you see, I see what you see as me.
If the dancing flames never touch, never try, they will remain that which they are until they wither and die. Is the risk too great? Are you too afraid to turn acceptance into hate? The prize is non-to-small, for if you succeed, a blaze of love doubled in size is your fate.
Can one be shown what is? Can one be shown what is not? Things change, that's a certainty, and that rule alone cannot be fought. To be an ending there must be a beginning, this is true. But are we sure that we began, and not just simply "are", must an ending be sought?
Don't stop writing, don't stop being. Don't stop loving, don't stop needing. Don't stop hurting, don't stop feeling. Don't stop seeing, Don't stop believing. Don't put down that quill, for your not even close to done. Your story is not even close to ended, just always do your best to make it a better one.