And so to bed, though once it was said that life is just an illusion. Well if that is so, then why, long ago, was my life such a whirl of confusion? A nightmare, a dream or so it would seem, could be life long ago on an endless stream. We are trapped in a world somewhere deep; in-between. So settled now am I that I often wonder why I was once so afraid; lived my life in the shade. I need no longer cry, for although we must die we don't have to pretend for there may be no end. Maybe life is but a butterfly's dream with no boundary's, or borders; no end it would seem? * Written by Darren Scanlon, November 1985. Revised by Darren Scanlon, 31st July 2016. ©2016 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.