Description
"Even stars have their limits." He began quietly, "Ours ... is born in the East, as it dies in the West; Everyday, an endless cycle, 'til we draw final breath. I pretend to be free, While the stars watching over me, Have no choice but to trace the same path they've just left." There's a restlessness, from familiar ochre farmlands to white sandy beaches; the echo of a war fought with anger and fear. How could I be the only chance at peace, when one, just as violent, rages on inside me? A battle of nature and instinct. A war of impulse and foresight. I'm torn between two halves; the ripple parting the sea from the sky. Oh this torture may seem like the greatest limit of all, but its a double-edged sword; there's power in this pain and well ... its limitless.
Authors Note
