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If i had a world of light and dark, of sharpe or smooth, of good and bad, i would control the balance, the raging sea, the fire that burns, the sky that crys as its sliced and stung. The flowers would grow tall as the stars showered down, the ground would be vapour, we'd sit on the clouds. A ladder would be an escape rote, and as for bare ground, there wouldn't be any as that is where patterns are found. A world thats all mine, that i watch and control, up in my tower, veiwing my own show. Everything in order, free to fly, Its a shame its a fanticy in the back of my minds eye.
