In Memory of The New World

It’s been so long now, I can’t remember if it was a long-forgotten dream, or just a worn-out Memory.

But dreams have their limits, going only so far and so deep as the dreamer’s imagination.

A memory has no limits. Because a memory is the skewed, fragmented echo of something that Truly happened,

And anything can truly happen.

But what a memory can do, is fade.

It can be bleached and dried out,

By glaring sunrise after sunrise.

It can wrinkle and warp.

But a dream… A dream starts out that way.

It is born as a distortion.

It is born as a shattered mirror,

With images the mind constructs

From what the senses can collect in our waking hours.

And so, unlike a memory, a dream exists within

Its own reality.

And so, it always will be.

Dreams are not subject to the three major elements of reality:

Time, Space, and Matter.

There are no rules.

And it’s true, the memory of a dream may fade,

And you may not be able to remember enough of it to write even one sentence,

As the details of the memory blur,

But the dream itself, is real.

And it did happen.

And a new world now exists, within this one,

Because of you.

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