---

Fantasy holds little power.

It is lost to my mind.

Fiction rests far from my soul.

In a dark drawer of odds and ends.

Hidden all along

In front of my eyes.

Truth that frees the heart,

Awakens the soul,

Stirs the spirit.

This reality has no equal.

There exists no purer form

Of beauty and mystery.

I no longer long for things imagined.

Which cannot be real,

Cannot be breathed,

Or seen, or felt,

Having discovered something else.