Deep in the realm of Unreality lied a simple home with a work desk, papers and fliers used to fill this desk until one day it was cleaned and organized. All the suicidal notes that were at the forefront was torn to shreds and burned. All of the jumbled thoughts that crowded the desk were thrown into the bin and emptied on to the nothing.
A clean slate. Something that anyone would want. And something the writer was able to achieve.
A paper entitled, "Hope", took the forefront of the desk, followed by a myriad of images of songbirds and doves. These doves had particular notes that chirped from the beaks of these doves. And on them lied two names, Azalea and Koretheia.
And underneath it all: Reborn.
A clean slate. Something that anyone would want. And something the writer was able to achieve.
A paper entitled, "Hope", took the forefront of the desk, followed by a myriad of images of songbirds and doves. These doves had particular notes that chirped from the beaks of these doves. And on them lied two names, Azalea and Koretheia.
And underneath it all: Reborn.
"Hope never died, only born a new."