Mythery

			As one in a multitude -
			Solo -
			Existing as self -
			Incapable of truly knowing
			Outside of my own mind.
			Single -
			Can see into others or not -
			Little middle ground...

			My social character 
			Becoming more and more vague -
			I'm not sure of who I am
			To other people -
			What they see me to be.
			Changing,
			Misunderstanding.

			Dreams:
			Not in my sleep
			But in waking hours -
			My soul groggily mapping the path forward.

			The dreams merge with reality,
			Romanticism blooming:
			Medieval myths
			Becoming holy to my soul.

			Lone...fool -
			I turn myself back to my present -
			The reality that is here and now...
			It lasts only a little while.
			Each time my soul escapes
			A vine from my otherworld
			Plants itself in my loves
			And desires for life.

			I open my eyes in a foreign place:
			Mists caress the woodlands -
			I gaze down from my dwelling;
			The waves sound rhythmically on the rocks -
			Grey seas mirror the grey skies -
			In turn, my eyes reflect 
			And caress the land -
			Knowing it as my own -
			Loving it as my true world
			Of incorruptible peace and nature.

			There is someone to thank for this land -
			The only one ever present,
			All encompassing.

			Dwelling place of the lonely,
			Regular sojourn of the searching,
			Abode of healing;

			Place of change from within
			Surrounded by the constant:
			A land of perpetuality,
			Eternity,
			Friendship.