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Never cross the line between growing up and giving in; you can never really surrender. |
| A sweet-dream script, left to gather dust between toy swords and high-school poetry: a story without a stage, a part without an actress, all but forgotten. Then your touch ignites this mad epiphany, rolls aside the dusty curtain of years— paints its fiery halo upon my play: how did I fail to notice, fail to recognize — at last, I've finally found you — my Queen! All for naught. I see, I've come too late; auditions closed before I took the stage. Fate has cast another man to wear the crown that I have always meant to claim. So now, I have retrieved my sword, and seek to kneel before my Queen, to beg a role within your fable. As you direct me, I shall go, until your quests have proved me worthy of my place beside your table. ************************************************************************ Dedicated to M.M., whose friendship and compassion restored me in my own eyes. ************************************************************************* |