A computer screen’s artificial light illuminates
A room set up to isolate the occupant
From a reality perceived as cold, unwelcoming;
The legends of a pixilated screen
Have their effigies pinned hastily on the walls,
And a surreal world’s eerie beauty, portrayed on canvases,
Covers old wallpaper from days
Long gone and purposely erased from memory

In this Church of Self-Delusion,
This high priest convinces his willingly-deceived congregation,
The digital cult of desperation,
That by their isolation they can achieve more
Than those who’ve found their place in the world;
That their self-created cages will allow them
To fly higher than those already free;
Only to be herded as easily as the other followers
Of this obscure faith

Starry eyes scan the screen,
The mind controlling them imagining
What joy it would be, adored as much
As heroes from these unpublished sagas;
Leading a life continually beautiful and exciting,
Like the most vivid of dreams.

A life led in a fantasy world
Captured only in brief snapshots
For the world to eternally misinterpret
As they live on far longer than the creator’s memory,
And the unrequited dreams that produced them.