taken for what they are will never quite be what they could be.
And you yourself will never be a millesecond ahead or behind your destiny.
A tale:
As you approach the moat of centipedes and cockroaches you notice a shining message in a bottle floating at the top.
Decifered
It declares war on your stronghold
and immeadeatly and painfully you notice an arrow shot through your chest
which is itself adorned with a message
heralding the dawn of a bloodless revolution.
You are its one casualty, martyr and ironically, idillicly as you drift off to die, your last thought is that your a monarch butterfly flapping its happy lil wings.
