Transgressions.

How can I make up for the multitude of transgressions I have wrought upon this world? It seems the fire of hope which existed and was created at my birth has been extinguished. What chance there was for me has become lost under a pile of rocks. Could it truly be possible for me to uncover this chance by lifting one rock at a time? The task seems so great. Or is it so that each and every one of us are lost souls living in a world of broken dreams? That every dream that has been realized was at one time broken and lost to the world? This optimism inside me seems so faint as I stare into the abyss of time and abstraction which makes up my past. In any case, my breath still draws and my blood still pumps. What choice do I have than to live as a lost and broken soul? None. The sun will rise and with it a new day. A day that may be different from the last. A day that enters into the realm of possibility anew. As if it was a newborne sitting on his mother’s breast, waiting to learn his first phrase, waiting to take his first steps, waiting to encounter his first challenge. This, my friends, is where I find courage in this world. Nothing is set in stone in this world except the past.