Still over a thousand miles to walk before home is within sight, but I find a comfort in this fact; a solace that all will be set right.
I'm not one to preach- my soapbox was never very stable- but this is an important thing to be heard; and I am still alive to speak: I am well and able.
Cherish each and every moment with the clarity of the air during a June afternoon in Maine.
Do not dwell on discomfort; do not live life in remembrance of pain.
Hear me well, I beg, may it do you well on your travels.
You're the light of someone's life, and an umbrella when the sky unravels.
Turn not your cold shoulders to those who would suffer for you;
cast not a fearful eye upon those you do not understand.
What can you possibly know without ever learning it?
It takes a mind, a heart, and a soul to truly determine truth from shit.
The words that I sputter, the words that I mangle with my hands between my thoughts and this page:
they mean something to somebody, I hope; but if not, upon my course I shall stay.
Because time is simply relative: if these words bring hope in future times
then my purpose is achieved, after all; these words are my messages sent through time.
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