The mind's eye

When it’s hours past the start of night
and you can hardly see,
but you can see your paradise
hover beyond your reach;
on your own you’ve made this place
to escape the real world’s unkind face,
but the real world makes an awful slight
and makes the new land dark as night.

You can almost hear the sound
of ocean water splash at you
and see the grains of ecru sand
mix with the ocean blue;
but the real world early comes
with the noise of urban homes,
and drags you, screaming, down
to your life back on the ground.

The place was never there —
that fact, you’ve always known —
the wind that stroked your hair
had never truly blown.
Regardless how it fleeting seemed;
it was nothing but a mere half-dream
that let your mind’s eye wander where
you know that no-one else was there.