I guess I could ask you to give me the moon, capture the stars from the sky, Hand them to me one by one so that maybe my eyes could capture the peace held within those mysteries that mankind could not synthesize.
I guess I could pray to god for a knight with an armor strong enough to deflect lightning, a knight brave enough to journey into the depths of my hell to rescue me before self destruction overwhelms my mind and body.
I guess I could give you the key to the most sacred things I posses. Hidden in the forest, guarded by high walls and unearthly beasts, locked behind the most secure lock, I’d invite you into my heart so that you could be the new care taker for such prised jewels.
I guess I would do these things if I knew how. I never dream of the heavens being given to me; I don’t lie awake waiting for my hero; I’m pretty sure I lost that key years ago.
I’m a closed book, no one has ever read my table of contents, preface, or even chapter two. The reader needs patience just to open such an extraordinary book. Maybe once read, my book will always be open to you.
I guess then I would ask for the moon and stars.
I guess then I would pray to God for a safe return of my knight every sunset.
I guess then I could finally start searching for that lost key.