Madness

What is a dream but a thought gone mad? In the isolated realm of our minds, cut off from reality, it twists and turns back on itself. A fear or a desire becomes an obsession. It builds its own world, block by block, to reinforce its own existence. The only thing that saves us is that we eventually awaken. The illusion of the dream shatters and it is forced back into a mere thought. Perhaps it changes us in a small way, with each sleep, but in the end it must return.

What then is madness but a dream gone rogue? A wild thought that should have expired on waking but held on with claws of its own design. It rips and tears into the waking mind to ensure that its truth is recognized. It insists it become part of this reality, no matter how much it conflicts with its bearer's senses.

I heard, once, that the King of Dreams is mad. The words were spoken in horror, as if it was a sign of the end. As if it was a great corruption spreading into the deepest parts of the world, darkening all it touched, that would eventually doom us all. After all, if madness could touch even that brightest of lords, who could be safe?

All I could think was: what else could a King of Dreams ever be?