The Stowaway Hearts

There is a rhythm which pervades the core of the earth, reverberating through the leaves of trees, and bubbling away in the streams. If you take a moment and stop to listen, you may be fortunate enough to hear it. If the sun smiles down on you, you may not recognise it; if you are not so blessed by the sun's loving rays, then you may recognise the rhythm as one which resonates within yourself also.

It is a common thread between many a people. Many of them are unaware that they are not unique in having this rhythm beat within them, and it is a rare person who sees it reflected in the eyes of another. It is the beat of loneliness; the beat of unrequited love.

That poor affliction has infected too many people in this world, and they all sit thinking in their independent lives, mulling over their situations and wishing it were different. Each of them has lost their heart to another, but have been too afraid to shout it to the world. Fear holds them back, keeps them from reaching to the sky, when the sky is so close.

Hidden aboard the ship of love, sailing the void between one person and another, their hearts are free falling; the thread which attaches them to another person has not yet grown taut, and the wind billows in the ship's sails, pushing and pulling them violently, as though it were a unworthy toy. The heart calls, achingly, yet no one hears. So it beats in this constant rhythm, this bloodline which connects all the lonely people on the planet, and waits in the hope that someone will recognise it for what it is.
All the while, the people begin to fade away.

So please, listen; please help. They need you. If you don't help, there may soon be nothing left of them.