Reality of dream.

   No words will come tonight, no thoughts. Blindly stumbling in the darkness, crawling on my hands and knees, feeling my way around, nothing but ghostly voices to guide me, but they are so deceitful, toying with me, laughing at my futile attempts to find a way out of this place, fields of broken glass and forgotten dreams. Shadowy figures, barely visible through the haze of insanity, reach out to me, beg me to take their hand and follow them to where pain ends and nothingness begins. Would i ever accept their gift and let go of everything that ever made me human, all that made me alive at some point of my existence, cut out my heart and throw it away? When pain becomes unbearable, we wish it to end, whatever the cost may be. But have i crossed that thin invisible line yet?
   Behold my madness in all it's glory, witness the sights my imagination creates for you to tread upon, horrors to haunt you every night, nightmare creatures made to torture and love you. Monsters that will devour your flesh and caress your soul, like a loving mother would her only babe, protecting what is left of you after their loathsome feast, treasuring every moment of your suffering, savoring your pain and tears. They will cherish every moment spent with you, and your agony will become your entire world once you realize that their feelings for you come not from malice but pure love. They simply know no other way to prove it, but what they give you is genuine, real, eternal. Pure...
   Fear them not, take my hand and let me show you what you have been searching for in vain all these centuries . Come with me. Abandon what you know and leave all hope of salvation at the door, as you silently succumb to my will and take my hand. Fear has no place in the lands i am about to show you, where no shadows need light to be born, where night and day are one, where we will never be slaves to past or future but will only live in the present, for the moment, cherish what we have instead of living in dread of losing. Dreams are the reality and fantasies roam free and wild, waiting their turn to take hold and become anything we may wish them to be, taking on shapes and visions of whatever it is our imagination may conceive.
   Everything that we know to be real was but a dream at one point or another, nothing more than an illusion, an idea. It was to us to shape the world we live in, and we created a land of nightmares and lunacy. It was not what we wished for, and finally, when nothing more could be done to save it, we abandoned our creation, leaving it to die silently in solitude, kissing away it's last breath, final show of love and affection we could provide. We walked away, drunk on tears of dying dream, in search of better place to live. Hopes of finding either a world already shaped and stable, or a blank canvas of universe where we could make a new life for ourselves, blind, starving, parched, pain and regret for what we have done gnawing at us. But there was no fear, and never will be again, for we no longer care what happens next. This what freedom must feel like, to be able to spread our wings and fly, not concerned that beneath us are sharp spikes of ice covering the land we gave birth to...