As I sit here in the darkness of the night, I think of all things, yet nothing. I feel at home here. My little world, is all mine. The hustle frenzy of all things bad, disappear, if only for a little while. I feel safe. My world is a kindler, gentler world. A world full of imagination, where all things are possible. My dreams take me higher, to places unimaginable in my daily mind. The daily, have to grind, destroys me to the bones of my soul, for it is not me, and whom, I am. I force myself to exist, barely in a world I wish no part of. Why attempt to conquer the impossibility of living in that arena? I know not why, but find solace of soul in part of my existence, is better than none. To dream even a tad is life's healing force, there I experience the emotions unfound in the real reality of a world, that's unfulfilling, for a wonderer, with a wanderer of many souls, that attempt to live in me.
If not for the security of the darkness hours, the realization that all things are indeed possible, if only in my imagination, and in the completeness of my dreams I surely should wish to go to the next new beginning that comes only after the last breath of life no matter what lies beyond!