Wings splashed with colors fade in distant suns, splitting mid air upon every flutter, only to sail the winds back to ground gracefully. Minor they may be, but changes are nevertheless clear that a small incur would largely impact its outcome. Am one sort that a path has only crossroads with no ends. Just a constant change in destiny all due to the incapability to force stability. May a choice be made and not change.Can a surrender be made to eternity of constant yet benign progress? Doubts taken to sleep, having woken up by tempts of idle beings. It is clear of what life is, but unknowing of his own strength.
