I doubt anyone is going to look at it in the submissions, but I just wanted to share it. If anyone did stumble upon it and like it, I will be happily surprised. Well, here it is in my journal if anyone cares to look.

They say that the winds of change guide us all, but when did it start to rain? The sands of time I keep treading is getting packed to the ground, and life begins to stagnate. Should I travel to find myself at a different shore, on an unfamiliar land where the sands can flow differently, or should I allow myself to be mired by the mud? Do I simply walk because I must? Or is there a grander intention for my wandering? Predestination is nothing I'd ever want, but the thought of having somewhere to go would be a comfort. As the waves crash against the sky, I ask myself evermore why I wander this open shore. The world gives me no answer, as I know it cannot. Have I not been star crossed enough to realize that looking at the stars, while beautiful, are unattainable for someone with broken wings? For if dreams are what gives our hopes flight, mine have been shattered too many times to take flight now. I wonder for a moment what all of this was for and I look about at the other footsteps on this shore. As far back as I can see, many trail off from mine while many join. I see the places I have buried ones that I love, and that's when I realize that I'm not walking here for myself. I'm walking for those whose footsteps coincide with my own, and for those I have left behind.