So you stand at this point, after having gone through a hurdle (or so you think).
As always, there's too many choices and it's dizzying to analyze each one of them (and you're tired).
Your roots and accomplishments would never settle for less (or so they told you).
But the meadow is green and the sunlight is bright (and you watch them frolicks around in absolute bliss).
Perhaps, it's time to lay that rusty sword to rest? (they'll never forgive you for this, though).
Oh, how you wish that you're a tree bark instead.
Author
Fulminata
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