Ever pervasive in every soul
But ever different on its own
A beacon of our dreams and goals
Extinguished, life turns dark and cold
Without which I and they wouldn’t exist
Without which dreams wouldn’t be dreams
But when it tranverses the realm of your own
And hinges upon the choices, not your own
It gains a weight of its own
And transforms into burden on its own
I wished it to move mountains
And not become a mountain on its own
But now that it’s turned into a stone,
It’s no longer a wish that I want to own.
– Gyan