Dreams fuel imagination, passion. Actions declare their authority over darkness, bringing forth the confidence to win. Feelgood is the word, the cache of promises built on the foundations of belief that whatever happens happens for the better.The thin line between what the mind conjures in its state of contentment and that of reality, has a name.
Nightmare.
Strongly rooted in verity, discontentment and the faith in upheaval of the order that has been secured by the realms of the ever ensured smiles. Cold sweat replaces the warmth of slumber. Premonition stabs composure. Dreams die in the wake of reality, desires become needs, a mere liking turns into an obsession, tranquility into foreboding, heroes die.
Love, however, remains. And that, I believe is the most primitive truth that we can comprehend.
Nightmare.
Strongly rooted in verity, discontentment and the faith in upheaval of the order that has been secured by the realms of the ever ensured smiles. Cold sweat replaces the warmth of slumber. Premonition stabs composure. Dreams die in the wake of reality, desires become needs, a mere liking turns into an obsession, tranquility into foreboding, heroes die.
Love, however, remains. And that, I believe is the most primitive truth that we can comprehend.
