Don't depend too much on anything.
Even our shadows leave us when we're in darkness

We are all afraid of falling, failing.
When we fall, we hope for a hand to pull us out of this endless abyss that we hurtle through.
When we are pulled out, it is a show of trust, belief, an support.
The people who give us this are unique, one of a kind, irreplaceable.

We all have imperfections.
When someone sees our flaws, and loves us more for them, we are lucky.

Friends. Ah, friends.
We would never dare to lose them, since they have always been with us, day-in, day-out.

Like a thorny rose,
You want it.
But if you're not careful,
You're hurt.
When you can finally admit to wanting this rose,
Things seem to mend.

A funny thing, Love.
It changes, like a chameleon.
It changes in strength, like a storm.
Only one thing is certain:
You are left different than before you set your sights on this rose.

Some lives, they say, are linked across time.
If I could find a rhyme,
I'd point out to you that some things are meant to be,
Unlike friends and ends,
Love and adventure don't rhyme.
But you see, they're all meant to be: friends, ends, love, adventure.

Things are simply this way,
Truly, we have no say.
As if someone has written our story,
Thought of our glory.
Written it down in some grand design,
As if what they write has the ability to intertwine our lives.

It's like everything we do is searching for scattered lines of text in our corner of this person's mind.
Many a wise man said we are all connected.
If the grand design were a book, we would be.