The Last of the Mohicans
"Every man dies, but not every man truly lives."
-William Wallace
The setting: a lofted ridge up in the mountains during the end days of summer. The oaks and maples dance from one end of the horizon to the other, filling every inch of your vision. As the mountains descend, the steep and smooth faces of rock slide down to the floor. A slow trickle of water streams under your feet, which grows broader and gains momentum as it races towards the edge to cascade down the slope. The sun is beginning to set, creating a collage of colors that paint the sky. Your surroundings are fully beauty, but one piece is missing; the most essetial piece to beauty, the pinnacle of beauty, beauty in itself. But let your heart rest, for that piece of beauty is right there, holding your hand.
The journey has taken a turn now and suddenly the fight has begun. With the overwhelming enemy nipping at your heels, you have no choice: you must flee from your Beauty, for there is no other way to rescue her. Outnumbered and outflanked, the enemy draws near. Time is precious, and you know that your decision is the one thing your heart begs not to do...leave. But the fight will come in the near, not the now. Their lights are turning the corner into your vision now. With one last gaze into her eyes, your heart, soul, spirit, and strength ring out a brave and challenging declaration to your Beauty:
"You stay strong, and survive. Have faith and fight. Do not have fear, for I promise, I will find you! No matter how long it takes or how far, I will find you!"
The following embrace is the trigger for your drive and determination, sitting on the edge of your memory. Letting go and stepping back, you race towards the cliff's edge. Then you make the most faithful and daring jump into the unknown waters below. Knowing your Beauty is now in the hands of the enemy you rush out of the river. Sprinting through the wilderness that was once so breathtaking, yet now so irrelevant, your heart drives you towards the enemy and closer to your Beauty. As if a gust of wind were carrying your feet, you dash up the mountain. The adventure swells with emotion and desire...
I want to truly live. Like Nathaniel in "The Last of the Mohicans." To fight for my Beauty and my King. And how I wish to journey back to the mountains soon. Asheville in the fall is borderline mystical. Live and love, for Love Wins.
~Stay Strong~
-William Wallace
The setting: a lofted ridge up in the mountains during the end days of summer. The oaks and maples dance from one end of the horizon to the other, filling every inch of your vision. As the mountains descend, the steep and smooth faces of rock slide down to the floor. A slow trickle of water streams under your feet, which grows broader and gains momentum as it races towards the edge to cascade down the slope. The sun is beginning to set, creating a collage of colors that paint the sky. Your surroundings are fully beauty, but one piece is missing; the most essetial piece to beauty, the pinnacle of beauty, beauty in itself. But let your heart rest, for that piece of beauty is right there, holding your hand.
The journey has taken a turn now and suddenly the fight has begun. With the overwhelming enemy nipping at your heels, you have no choice: you must flee from your Beauty, for there is no other way to rescue her. Outnumbered and outflanked, the enemy draws near. Time is precious, and you know that your decision is the one thing your heart begs not to do...leave. But the fight will come in the near, not the now. Their lights are turning the corner into your vision now. With one last gaze into her eyes, your heart, soul, spirit, and strength ring out a brave and challenging declaration to your Beauty:
"You stay strong, and survive. Have faith and fight. Do not have fear, for I promise, I will find you! No matter how long it takes or how far, I will find you!"
The following embrace is the trigger for your drive and determination, sitting on the edge of your memory. Letting go and stepping back, you race towards the cliff's edge. Then you make the most faithful and daring jump into the unknown waters below. Knowing your Beauty is now in the hands of the enemy you rush out of the river. Sprinting through the wilderness that was once so breathtaking, yet now so irrelevant, your heart drives you towards the enemy and closer to your Beauty. As if a gust of wind were carrying your feet, you dash up the mountain. The adventure swells with emotion and desire...
I want to truly live. Like Nathaniel in "The Last of the Mohicans." To fight for my Beauty and my King. And how I wish to journey back to the mountains soon. Asheville in the fall is borderline mystical. Live and love, for Love Wins.
~Stay Strong~