Where does one begin on such a conquest? How does one endure such a grueling campaign that encompasses ones mind? Does it matter to attack and fight oneself for all eternity? Or is it necessary to actually have mastery over the thoughts that seem to permeate the fabric of your own being? I speak from an exhausted mindset, battling ancient thought patterns. Born of the lowliest of rock, my mind once resided in the mountaintops.

Once a lowly pebble swimming along the streams, I return once more to my oldest form, that which towered above the atmosphere. The view of endless stars and blue hue'd skies, uninhibited by polluted light. That old dragon who found freedom in the skies above and in forgotten valleys, He always reconciled his heart in the direction of your foosteps. You were the breath beneath each wing, You transformed that ancient one from bitterness to embracing an old flame in his bosom he cast off many moons ago.

Who could ever surmise that there would ever come a day that you could teach a primordial being something he never once experienced before.