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The Bridge

Last Updated on June 30, 2023 by stormvisions

Sometimes I feel that I stand on a bridge between two worlds. The knotted ropes that bind the slats are frayed, reduced to a mere pittance of turnings. From the top of the towers dotting each land angry voices call the people to war. They rise from the valleys to slash at the moorings that provide safe passage over the void. We who walk the bridge speak of peace, but they cannot hear our words. Each combatant sees the other as a weight that unfairly drags them down, when in truth each is a hand, whose opposing pull prevents both worlds from plunging into the abyss of dissolution.