Backpacks and Blue Roses

To everything there is a beginning. A story which must be told. There are secrets which have not yet been heard. There are mysteries which must be unsealed. For at the very least this much is true. In the forgotten darkness of yesterday lay the hope of tomorrow. In that twilight dawn a blossom will spread its shadow. Seeds will be planted. Indwelled and nurturing, a toy man will look at the moon and prophesize before tears will fall. Wings will be spread as the moon sheds her light and time, for