Monday, August 15, 2011

A Hopeless Wish

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wished she could experience a fairy tale. But asking for that is nothing short of a miracle. They're hard to come by now-in-days...and for those who do get them is because they're in desperate need of one...why waste a miracle on something such a love...
especially for someone who's never experienced it's beauty before...
To wish for love is like asking for summer in the middle of winter
...meaning whens one heart is as winter,  

It's hard for summer to dwell there. Eventually, they might encounter spring together...but winters not something to be taken lightly-it can be hard to endure and easy to give up while in.
             A wish for a fairy tale...what does she expect? A prince charming to confidently walk up to her and capture her heart? Will he have the power to stop her breath with just once glance? Will his smile be the most beautiful thing she's ever seen? Will his laugh send her into a state of ecstasy? Will his tears cause her world to break down piece by piece...tear by tear...will it be the same for him when he see's her live? This miracle she's wishing for is chimerical..."unreal"..."visionary"..."widely fanciful"...and highly unrealistic. Poor thing. She keeps on wishing on that lone star every night hoping that one day its dull shine will recognize her bright desires. She loves to believe so; however, wishing for a dream and living in a reality are two terribly different things. Some can live in the middle and prosper, but most wither and wilt...wishing their thirsted chap lips would savor the taste of true love. It gleams and glosses like the dew in the spring sunlight.                     
                          So pure...delicious and sweet. Desirable to all...attained by who? The few who are lucky enough to find it. 
                                                      
                        All that wishing will get her somewhere...someday. 

But as for now, she must find contentment sitting in that lonely...dreary tower...dreaming rather than living...poor dear has her eyes glazed over with the illusion of tomorrows possibilities. Each day ends with more heaps of disappointment. Soon enough that disappointment will build up...it will become heavier...it could possibly crush her...it probably will. It will, that is, if she keeper her neck ever strained toward unattainable hopes. It'll stiffen...and before she's even aware of it...she cannot move. 

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