don't you just want to fly? fly away to a world where your happy fantasies will become fulfilled?
don't you wish your life could be like the ones in the storybooks? all so very gracious and kindled?
if life were a fantasy things would feel so great wouldn't it, living and breathing the legends we read?
to have a bigger purpose in life? to enter a world where we know our place, to know the roles we lead?
don't you want to feel what it's like to live a fairytale, where sorrow and pain are majestically endured?
don't you think it's worth it? don't you believe? to leave to a world where all mortal wounds are cured?
don't the stories move your heart, move your very soul, the choices of the character's neverending paths?
doesn't make you want to live their days? want you to see what they see? breathe their breaths and laugh their laughs?
the timeless epics, the golden heroines, doesn't it all make you wish you could think their notions?
the sacrifices their make, the smiles they bring, doesn't it make you want to feel their emotions?
don't you wish you could be the minds of the protagonists? living out the greatest of love stories?
feeling the kisses, feeling their body pressing against your own, feeling the most infinite of glories? (wacked line, but whatever)
but as in every story, there's evil, rippling endlessly within the flow of time; even then there is hate,
but even still, evil plays its role as the counterpart to good, of which the dark plague has no escape.
but even then wouldn't you still want to feel the fears of defeat, to experience the anxieties of peril?
in a world where the difficulties never cease, never falter, a world where the obstacles are never sterile?
but that'll never happen, we're stuck here in reality, a prison to all who mentions,
which is why fantasies are called what they are, which is why all they can be are questions.
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