I Dreams flutter around my head.. As i sit down, eating beans and bread.. Dancing in my mind are mangled hopes. Entwined like a labyrinth of many ropes.. Fighting against the wiles of profanity.. The mind wanders through the plains of Sagacity.. Trained like a monk, to show no pain.. The soul becomes undaunted, in the midst of rain.. Zeal becomes the madman who, In his quest for knowledge, becomes the fool.. Who acts irrational, hated by them.. Who lack discipline, and courage to stand firm.. But through it all, dreams will live on.. Even in the shadows of a dying sun.. For by it, memories still will remain.. In the remnants of time, for they, who lived not in vain.. II There is a garden in the city of the mind.. Where dreams were sown, nurtured and grown.. The farmer was a different unique kind.. With the wisdom to discern the seeming unknown.. With an understanding of the times and seasons.. He made sure no crop withered or died.. He lived in the hut of logical rea...
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