Thresholds of our existence, spines supporting ceiling, slowly the lamps wept, a prisoner to some, the hero understands the task, drawing forth from the well, the halls of solitude, in this house, the self seeds the hearts of all, a reflection of the world-creative divinity, the results in a pattern not of action, but of significant representation.

-Josh Fleming

Inspired by and some words rearranged from: Joseph Campbell, The Hero With A Thousand Faces


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