Though I may never be engulfed in a baptism of fire, which seems more like a distant and inconceivable reverie, but more so than ever before, I see clearly the craft I am meant for. Laying repeatedly the bricks of foundation. Grateful.
You start to see clearly the role you have to play, and things which used to fill you with longing and desire, well lets say they lose their allure. You get used to the sting and the lights and sounds of the stage. They no longer matter. Go and be your self. Rise. Flight. Free.
Yet again I am inspired. This time the path would be filled with small steps. And it matters little whether I reached as long as I journeyed.
"I belong to the forgotten. "