The ground shook on a winters day cold born, the snow was falling yet in the distance, far enough that the snow could not yet graze, great noise emanates, something was changing. A face peeked out from a wooden cottage, a look of confusion, bewilderment. What was this thing which was piercing the sky, a trail of clouds and smoke in it’s coned wake. The ground shook, the air warmed, something heavensward. Shot, faster than anything they had seen. shot, a bullet to pierce the silent day. Shot, the hopes of the future lain before. Shot, they could not fail now, too much at stake.

Elsewhere, near where the rocket launched stood one, a hazy figure made of ashes, dreams, stood lingering, the hopes of many lost. Everyone succumbed to time one day, everyone which was human inside, yet, these hopes lingering so daintily, they did not diminish with time and age. The framework set by the past humans might, the skeleton created by the ones before, the engine scavenged from the scraps left old, and the knowledge, and hope which followed them. Those did not disappear, their hopes and dreams, they would come to fruition at this time. And so they flew… Far into the bright sky,

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And so they flew…

And so they flew…

And so they flew…

Riding on a rocket of dreams…

“History rising from the ashes lost, A flame in our hearts, a phoenix pushes. What is hotter? Rocket flames, or bright hope? That hope which burns like a phoenix of dreams!”