Post by Episky on May 2, 2007 16:21:44 GMT -5
It is known throughout the world that myth and legend often hand on past the initial exit of a soul from a body. The memory of a life is far more lasting, far more stubborn and brave, than the body it inhabited. So when a particularly stubborn life, when a particularly intriguing story, isn't ready to fade away just yet, the world compensates. The breathe of fallen soldiers, lost mothers, and the very sad ride of th earth, connecting with the strong, wise and brave, mixing above the heads they left befind. Sometimes there is a soul not ready for it's final resting place, its not ready to settle in heaven, or it's too alive for hell. It is Said the great sould come back as equines. Memories of their past are lost, but the restlessness and colors of the soul come from a pitch of a whinny, or a slash of a hoof. Given the strength and time to finish what they started, and a ness body to do it with, maybe some of the wanderers find their peace in an unexpected place. What these travelers take with them are far more potent then bags or memories of distant faces with foreign names. In the raw form of a horse, their colors come through of shades of black and white.
Welcome to Surreal
Welcome to Surreal