<p>There once lived many dreamers, their minds brimming with vast ideas, visions of empires, and whispers of futures that could be. They dreamed in the quiet of the night, their hearts racing with the thought of what could be, building castles of success in the skies of their imagination. But as the sun rose, their dreams remained locked away, fragile and floating in the chambers of their minds.
</p><p>These dreamers never took the time to write their visions down. They never laid the foundation for the castles they dreamed of building. They never turned their thoughts into plans. And without form, without clarity, their dreams began to slip through their fingers like sand in the wind.
</p><p>Day after day, they lived on the edge of "what if." But their dreams, like untamed horses, ran wild and away, disappearing into the fog of time. They carried their dreams as passengers in their minds, hoping that one day, somehow, they'd come alive. But hope, unaccompanied by action, is a deceptive friend.
</p><p>Soon, life presented them with obstacles, roadblocks that seemed bigger than they were. Failure showed up in their rearview mirror—not because they had failed, but because they never gave their dreams a chance to breathe, to walk, to grow. They looked at the world around them, at others who had taken smaller dreams and turned them into realities, and they wondered why their own hopes had crumbled.
</p><p>The evidence of failure was false, crafted not by destiny, but by their lack of foresight and clarity. They had let the vision blur, left it unwritten, unspoken. And so, they falsely believed that their dreams were unattainable when, in truth, they had simply failed to nurture them.
</p><p>They had let fear whisper lies of impossibility, let doubt cloud their path. And in the end, the dreamers who dreamed but never acted found themselves trapped, not by the impossibility of their visions, but by the weight of regret for the things they could have done, for the dreams that might have been.
</p><p>So, they wandered the world, carrying in their hearts the ghosts of dreams that never lived. And the question lingers.</p><p>What would have happened if they had just written it down? </p><p>If they had seen far, with eyes unclouded by fear?</p><p>
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The Dreamer Who Dreamed
By
Godwin Erite