Within a child’s mind there lays a simple concept that the world before our eyes is no different then the world we keep behind them. The barrier which adulthood forms around the imagination has yet to shape. As a result a child’s world is bright, untouched by the harsh climates which strike with relentless force upon reality. It is a world of black and white, good and evil, without corruption and prejudice. A world where a forest is not just a forest but a kingdom, a kingdom of romance and danger. The trees rustle in the wind, but to a child they sing a sweet song of love. The leaves which turn to auburn red and fall to the ground are not simply the result of change in season, but a curse upon the trees, from the malicious queen of fire which can only be lifted with the blessing of the captured princess whose hair is spun silk and eyes like the ocean.
Saddening it may seem that this ability to preserve the world around us as more than it is, fades away with the passage of time. How convenient it would be to escape to a world where truth and right still exist, when distress and war prevail. Unfortunately reality must strike, a Childs kingdom must once again be a forest. Trees which once sang must be silenced, and the burning leaves will only mark the begging’s of winter. For a child can only imagine for so long, eventually they must leave their world behind and embrace the reality before them. Some though possess a mind with the rarest of gifts, an imagination which continues to grow and thrive past childhood. Where this imagination may lead is dangerous to think, but for now they still dare to believe that deep within the forest of their youth there lays the kingdom they once knew.
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