March 25, 2017
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                               For outside of Spero,
                                    Lie the blind

       There once was an aged man whom “lived in Spero, whom learned to sing the song of the Aves” he told told me. I had never seen him, for he was merely a visitor. I remember asking him why he found it necessary to tell me so, and he ignored the question, only telling me “we learn to sing, so to help guide us to redemption. It's the only way of escaping” he had a smile on his delicate face, a face that once held beauty.

“Escape from what?” I had asked, for I did not understand.

“To escape them” he continued, his face aging just a bit more. “They can not find you in Spero, for they have none”

“None what? Whom are they ?” I asked once more.

“Hope, child, they have none whatsoever. For they dwell on one’s pessimism.” He smiled, “but those who know the song, it is only they who can escape. Never to turn back. To forget those who are left behind.”

Impatiently, I had asked, “Who are they you old fool?! It does good to answer me!”

“They,” he said painstakingly calm. “They are those in the dark. With dark veils they hide.” He had began disappearing, smile still on his once handsome features.

“Hide? Hide where?” I hadn't bothered to notice.

“Inside you”

“Me! Your crazy! Where are you going?!” I had only noticed, he was about halfway gone “come back, I'm not done!”

“Learn my boy, the song, and follow them” he instructed, seconds before he could no longer be seen. He had disappeared.

It was only then, that I realized, I had been asleep. The man had never been there, it was merely a calling. One I hadn't realized I wanted to hear.

And so I did, I learned the song and followed the birds. That same night I found the old man who came to see me in my own dystopia. But he had passed the same night he visited me. For there in the land of dystopia, going back after finding Spero, was suicide.

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