When did we stop believing that we could be heroes? When did we stop dreaming of flying and endlessly begin awaking to nightmares of falling? When did we forget that we are the future? That what the world will look like is up to us? That we can make it as beautiful...or as ugly, as we please? As we chose to. Since when did we think that everything we were reaching for would only ever slip through our fingers and shatter at our feet? When did we become these creatures of destruction that would shrink in the corners, folding their claws around themselves and hiding their teeth to cry without anyone hearing the deathly sound of their pain? When did we leave behind the fantasies of our childhood; the ones in which good always conquered evil and love was the greatest power over them all? When did we stop remembering how incredible we are? How could we have let the gorgeous glory that we were yet to become slip through our fingers without fighting to hold onto our futures, to screech back in the face of the demons, and to determine that we were the winners in the battles that our ancestors had created with their own mistakes of greed? Stop hiding, dear dreamers, beneath the shadows of the commanding conformity that believes it owns the world you created.