Men Die, Legends Live Forever.

Everybody has a dream
Everybody has something they all wish they’ll wake up to someday.
Living without a dream is like living with sight but with no vision.
And no doubt I always dream of being wealthy.
So I could buy all the things I dream of.
Dreams money can buy huh?
But what is wealth when health expires?
What is opulence when time kills everybody?
Is it not delusional to think that you be killing time?
What good is luxury when pleasure is transitory?
I guess there’s always an end to everything.
So what then is the worth of my dream? How far will it fair against eternity?
And how good is it when I’m no more?
Verily, everything depletes with time; name it; beauty, power and life.
But some legacies have lived long enough.
Some names will always be remembered;
Men die, legends live forever.
Eternity can’t silence the echoes of great legacies.
Writing is one of my legacies.
I might not be fortunate to have a monument built in my name.
But this one of the few remnants of my life that will remain after my soul is gone.
They say that mankind is haunted by the vastness of eternity.
How far will my life echo? I don’t know, and no soothsayer does.
Maybe someday preceding generations will read my words.
Memorize my thoughts.
Strangers will quote my name.
I do not know how long the effect of my efforts will ripple.
But it’s my dream that I’ll affect lives in a positive way possible.
Whichever way I can.
I’m building libraries. I want to live on shelves and in minds forever.
If they say that a picture is worth a thousand words, then writing must be the greatest art.
And I want to be one of the greatest artists.
Behold; A conflagration of revolution is coming and I can’t wait.
One day they’d say that it all started from a match stick I lit.
This is my dream…