b'The EchoWhat shall we write? Not enough, I suppose.Perhaps about shadow-drunken dragons of old.Or maybe a blossom cordially baked in the breeze.Just that what lies before you is seldom all it seems.Do they die in the end? Well of course they do.Whether that is their story, is up to you.Spose its the same for us; the meaning of life is death.But the meaning of your life is for you to interpret.Where shall we start? At the beginning, to our amaze.An ethereality of chess and masquerades.And how shall it go? Only one way to find out.The mumbles through rain, ice and smoke seem to shout,But what of my purpose? Oh what of my dreams?The valleys and alleys of tearholics screams.Did you know butterflies only flutter for a day?Does it frighten you knowing all this could soon fade away?Listen to the echo, can you hear my call?Are you really scared of heights or just afraid to fall?Are you really scared to fall or not be able to get back up?Since were all addicted to pain, whats to say we arent in love.I do not fear the dark only what dwells amongst its whispers.The fire is light, the fire is warmth and yet one spark could send me tocinders.Do you fear the calling or do you fear the echo?Youll never know if you dont try at all. Its come and go.Ame OKelly16'