A white dreamer’s memory

I drive and look around. Where am I? Could it be true? White colored snow paints the picture perfectly. The horses I happen to come across remind me of the wilderness still locked inside. I drive and those who surround me know what rules mean by simply following them. They respect me as much as I have to give. I sing red haired songs from the top of my lungs and they fill me with utter joy. On my way to heaven all that matters is this. I drive peacefully through the frozen glass as it protects my dark eyes. The glow seems unrecognizable and yet so familiar. Why can’t this be forever? It can if I simply remember me here. Just the fact that purpose curiously found a way through the pain reminds the dreamer sitting next to me how valuable he is. Was this the impossible? Not at all. It was just a drive. It was just a memory.


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