Dormant and as though asleep, a tiny spark awakes when called upon by circumstance. It calls to arms the weary soul – downtrodden and defeated. Its fire grows to roaring blaze in the face of all that would oppose it. Indomitable, it is the key – the very seat of our survival.
Take up the sword that is your soul. Wield it mightily through the brambles cast before you, that none may tarnish your Excaliber – your essence – the one that is you.
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