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The Fallen

The fallen, I am surrounded by them; I have, at times, become one of them. They are the ones who have given up and flow along with nothing to achieve, nothing to accomplish. They flood around me and in me, keeping me from rising, whether it is my internal demons or those around me. This is not my course, my path, I know this and feel this. They cannot and will not hold me physically or mentally, restrained to sorrow and sadness. Clawing until my fingers blood, until my mind is exhausted, I will not become one of them. My destiny will not allow this; my dreams still come, showing me what I can and must become.

I am a stranger to the place around me, constantly surrounded by the fallen. Those ones that care for nothing, no one, only themselves. They will claw at you, pulling at you, slowing your attempts to overcome, but there is still some hope. There are a select few who are genuine, who will pull you up by the arms from the trampling masses of the fallen and their clawing grips. They are few in number, but they are out there, and when you find one or two, keep them close to help in your guidance. They may come and go themselves as well, and they at times might become one of the fallen, but then your rolls reverse, and you help them up and out.

This place is strange to me, as are the people, but I know it is not final. I will not fall here. I see hope here and there to keep me from fully falling. Then it happens. You see the glimmer of hope out of the corner of your eye; you go that direction only to see it the other way and farther than before. Like chasing fireflies on a summer night, the blackness all around. This little light appears and disappears, playing Marco Polo with your hopes and your soul. It keeps my hopes and dreams alive and a sort of direction, even though that direction is several places at once.

I will not be one of the fallen. I know this, even if my mind doesn't at times; my heart does.

You'll see, and so will they ....

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