I look out on the world from the cave that I am in.
The cave and I are one, sheltered and shadowed from the strangers of the world around me,
And it has been this way for so long that I cannot fathom what the outside is like
The outside is reality and I am not ready for that, not yet.
But how can something so seemingly beautiful and lush be reality, when all its qualities equal fantasy?
Perhaps the cave is my reality
A dark, dim place where loneliness and fear of the unknown drown you.
Many times I have thought this over, pondering the subjects in my mind like spects of debris floating in the wind
And I realize I do not want either,
Yet one day I realize that I must choose
Whether I prefer the brutal, harsh reality of the world,
Or the false, artificial world that only fools believe to be real.
And then, I think again, that I know I am not ready.