The fool

He awoke in this utopia. The fool thought not of who he was, but rather was happy to be recycled for use. The flowers grew through concrete floors, and he was lost in the contained greenery that surrounded his world. The moon fed him dreams, and a blurry vision sung to the stars and the sea. He found solace in knowing that he was not the only fool among us. 

The creator or the created. A mind full of mystery and missense, yet a place of truth. A cloudy night was drawn, and the sky became a difficult focus. Brick by brick we tore down the city. Our roots grew together, and the land is now green where she stays.