Yet the dream still remains to break free, to be one's self and not a definition, to fly out of the mazes created by the self and by others; to run deep into the heavy snow wearing the warmth of your smile around me.
This heart has always known how to be a rogue, vagabond and cheat; it has evaded its responsibilities and flown away every single time to dwell in imaginary worlds where the too bright sun can no longer burn its wings.
But this time, it needs to have enough cunning to throw pixie dust in every wandering eye, just to hold your hand and ride out on a moonlit night with you.
