Self-Created Worlds.

A poem about loss.

As we lie dormant, wrapped in the comfort of our dreams, what will we know of the world of the living?

Our vacant body holds our place in this world while our minds run through fields and mountains, untouched by the boundaries of our reality.

How will we know if the world stops turning?

How would we know if it were all to end?

How would we know if the candle blew out while we danced in our self-created worlds?

The candle flickers while others look on, all helpless but present all the same, ready to see the candles last flickering spark.

I have seen this flame throughout my life, its warm glow radiating comfort and love, but never thinking that one day the wick would burn out, never knowing there was so little left.

But rather than savour that last dying light, I danced in the realm of my dreams, unknowing, until I awoke to find the world had changed forever.