Eyes Closed

Photo by Rad Cyrus on Unsplash

There you sit, living in a dream, 
frightened of every shadow,
even your own, behind those walls so high.

You don’t want to hear the truth,
that your time has passed,
as dead as the trees that were taken down outside,
you want to be spoon-fed the comfort of lies.

Surely, the world must love you,
all adoring, the great and wonderful,
but you are nothing more than an illusion
that you yourself projected to keep you quiet.

And do you think we would play,
participate in your games? Are we playing?
Have you seen the emptiness outside,
does it match the emptiness inside?

What will you do when the truth comes knocking, 
and the door falls down, bringing its light?
What then? How will hold the golden that you sup from?
Who will turn on you first, breaching those walls you built?

©️ Emma Steel