There’s a repository where all deeds of emotional elegance, enacted in moments of existential hesitance, reside bestowing courage to slay demons and sirens who challenge our becomingness. Could these ethereal archives emerge in times of vicissitudes as guardians of our authenticity? Yes, but their apparition is inconceivable in a world of vulgar eyes. Only willingness to cast fate to the edge of uncertainty can bring destiny to the shores of wisdom.
There are those who choose a path of perdition nourished by deceit and inauthenticity. Some are evil and some are fearful of their worthiness. Flaming swords against malevolence, and roses when expecting thorns for those who lack the fortitude to claim their place in the pantheon of pristine love.
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