Carved from Stone

Persistent and steadfast and ingrained. Such a beautiful 
thing to carry from such an early age. And held. "As high 
as a horses bridle", and never forgotten. But known and 
breathed and the sleepless nights were worth it for the 
knowledge and realization that these were, in fact, the 
times. And so unfulfilled for you to
never ascend. As if this truly were the end. And as 
frightened as i was so am i aware, and full
. Still reticent to believe but easy to please. As the 
mouth keeps explaining and analyzing the worst, the 
subtlety escapes the faithful mind but is not lost on me. 
So ascend as i said before and prove this wrong. Those 
mornings held true but so far from what was said by you. 
These scrawls of a madman prove nothing.