Purpose: Poetry

I had dreams
and aspirations once,
but they dried up like a lake

So I lamented my misfortune,
shaking my fist at myself for
my failures and walked miles
to escape them to no avail

The failure was not the worst;
It was the hope that it would
get better that did it,
spying fortune around every corner
before realizing it was another mirage

But I did not know the mountains
of the world were no longer
covered with snow
and the drying of the lake served
a higher purpose than my own desires

It was only when the spark lit
the sky that I realized my duty:
to exist here as both a
as a witness and a scribe.

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