Reefs of being
There is no time for inspiration to rest, when we take off.
The sky is the only limit for our achievements physically and emotionally.
Different worlds magnetize us…
Will we obtain enough ability to comprehend
An ephemeral burden of having winged dreams?
Will we withstand the tremendous pressure of Time
That makes us conceive theories and fight illnesses,
Write poetry and upon becoming a bit more useful,
Shatter ourselves into bits over the reefs of being?
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