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I believe in believers. I believe that people still believe in dreams coming true. I believe the human spirit is the strongest thing in the world and I believe the hardest thing to do is believe. I believe that man still has the power to write a sonnet, to write a bard, to write a novel, with such depth and such skill that it would shatter the coldest heart, let slip the gates of fortitude and bring man to tears.

I believe that there is beauty enough that words can slide from the mouth and dance in musical melody on the starriest, velvet night sky. I have to believe it is possible because the thought of never reaching your dream, of never resting your head in complete contentment is too scary to bear. I believe in believers because I will never be anything more than mediocre.

I have such beautiful poems in my mind but when I try to utter them they turn into a puff of smoke, trying to grasp at the wispsï'½ they sieve through my fingers and I am left with nothing but dirt on my hands and failure, failure at trying to capture muse herself. I believe to keep my dreams alive.