You take a step.
The shaking in your knees subsides.
Again your feet find solid ground. The warm grass tickles between your toes. Step by step you dig them into the earth.
Your fears and doubts dull, you dare to pick up the pace. With the gained speed you can feel the wind brushing up against your skin, temptingly caressing, encouraging you to go even faster.
Steps turn to small leaps, fueled by flourishing hope. Lighter and lighter you dance over cheering blades of grass until a hope turned to a dream lifts you up.
You twirl around the bark of ancient trees, their canopies watching over you like a mother's protective embrace. Higher and higher you go, leaping from thinning branches onto thin air.
You can feel the leaves rooting for you, supporting you with a gleaming smile.
An ecstatic feeling races from your head to your feet, amplifying your next leap. You lift your head and close your eyes.
The sound of leaves rustling as they swing out of your way fills your mind.
And suddenly their brushes against your cheeks disappear, replaced by the caring warmth of a sun you've never danced with before.
Again, you begin to skip and twirl, trying to seduce the bright flame to join your gleeful movements. Yet the sun barely notices you, enthralled by her lunar partner.
Unable to stop watching their grand dance, you whirl in their light for uncounted days and nights until they have concluded their spectacle, leaving you in somber solitude.
You look ahead, as far as no one has dared to look before. You see places to dance, an audience to enchant and times to enjoy. And beyond that you can see the end.
You can see its claws reaching out for everything, holding the things it has taken in its cold grasp. Its tendrils around you become visible, you see them interwoven with the world.
You take another leap and make another twirl, you skip between the end. And then you trip. You fall, leaving a blazing trail in the night sky.
Lying in the dirt you wait for the end. But the end takes slow strides. It hasn't reached you yet, its harbingers have merely touched you.
And you decide that you are not done. You want to dance again. The process is accompanied by struggle but after a bit you stand on your feet again.
And you take a step.