She reads about places she will never go, adventures she will never have, people she could never be.
Yet she reads.
Lost somewhere between the pages of a book,
He reads to escape to another world, to embark on odysseys so much greater than those in his own insipid little world,
To venture to a faraway galaxy, to fly away with the fairies, to battle away the giants, and save the world in a flurry of resolute boldness,
To gaze upon the palest silver moon, atop the highest mountain under the the blanket of a billion twinkling stars,
To delve into an ancient era long past, or soar into a broken utopian future,
For each story is brimming with a new kind of magic, that brings his soul to life.
She dreams to be those she so relentlessly reads of, to be fearless, gallant, grand and courageous, dauntless in the face of fear.
Our souls yearn for another life in a another world, of magic and mystery, adventure and action,
Of crusades that bring down the veil between reality and illusion.
Heads stuck in clouds, forever trapped in a pleasant reverie, we are the lost souls that belong to another galaxy, another realm, another world, another life.
We are proficient wizards, valiant heroes, lionhearted dragon slayers and so much more, because we are readers.