Fond memories of keys, those who lock the darkest, cruellest pieces of history in a box;
alternatively, those who unlock a hearthstone of joy.
Which sort of keys do you hold? Keys to a kingdom; keys to a home; keys to salvation; keys do a dungeon?
To lock or unlock; seal away or discover—they are our greatest lie and our absolute truth.
Hide a secret from the light, or share it with the entire world when the time comes.
Which sort of keys remains in your pocket? Keys to heaven; keys to hell; keys long forgotten; keys searched for night and day.
Despite all these different keys, one key will forever carry the most of what could be a soul;
a single little key, with no great importance for war or eternal life—a key to a heart one adores.
Imagine that every key is in your possession, no door would be locked; no secrets could be kept.
Would all those keys in your hands be able to replace a key to a chest in a soul?
A single key survives all the wishes gods; genies; magic could ever bring unto my doorstep.
To rather have nothing at all than to have it all, because if nothing is her heart…
Then you have completely lost vision of what eternal life is—it is not to live forever, it is to be loved.
Loved by a heart; a flower; a chest of a soul and wish for nothing more.
Which key would you rather hold?
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