Yellow Stars; my World

I am surrounded
By wondrous people.

They are mazes,
And matrices,
And puzzles,

And Worlds.

Their Worlds are very different;

With Liquid pools of red and blue:
Ever-moving, bone-chilling,
Heart-warming
Liquid.

"Jump on in, let's float and swim,
Flip, do tricks, and get lost for hours."
Liquid.

Some do not have Liquid;
Some have Flame.

In constant conflict,
Rapid, raging,
Magnificent, maddening
Flame.

It engulfs their souls,
It clouds their minds,
It eats away at them;
Flame.
(Although fire can be glorious thing,
If you know how to use it.)

Some do not have flame,
Some have wind.

Whipping
Their hair in their face;

Throwing harsh stares
In this mockery of space;

Isolated,
Upon a mountain-
top, cold and empty,
Wind.

I as well have a World somewhere.

I imagine
That I have neither Liquid nor Flame nor Wind,

No,
Instead I have a blinding darkness.

Stars stretch on,
Bright Yellow stars,
In the never-ending darkness,
(For they are Invisible,
Always there, simply unseen)

And a switch lies in the middle.

I have a desire
To trek to this place,
To explore
Every barren cobblestone
Road of this dimension I call my World.

I feel the need
To discover its door,
Pry it open and dwell for a while in its depths.

I will flip this switch,
Bring light and illumination
To my vessel,

And fin'lly see the Stars within
Its walls.