What is the allegory in this piece: I sit on the edge of a massive, crystal tower. Flakes of snow fall silently around me- some gently scattered by a wisp of curling air. It feels as though I stand at the very top of the world, yet I know this is only a moment, a moment which could last for as long as it wants, for as long as I breathe life into it.

I yearn to preserve this beauty, though. I want to explore this new world. So, I look to the left and then to the right. The snow falls as I look, covering everything in a shimmering layer of pure white. I then look down, and I see brilliant lights shining up at me. Their light is angelic and completely mesmerizing.

I need to get closer. Without a second of doubt, I unfurl my wings, and they spread wide— white and bright and strong. I can see their faint luminescence on the crystal below.

I step off my ledge and glide silently down like the snowflakes beside me. The lights grow brighter and brighter the closer I go, but instead of a glare, they give off a warm, engulfing glow that makes me feel full of happiness.

I come to a stop on a ledge of gold and look with two big, wide eyes at the sea of light below.

They were snowflakes. As they hit the calm, icy waters, they froze for a moment and then turned into a burst of light.

The sight was unexplainably beautiful. Each flake held its own radiance. Some shone white, and others yellow, some were bigger, and some were smaller. None were alike, but they were all needed to create the scene.

Overwhelmed, I closed my eyes, yet a brightness inside me had already begun to blossom. It wrapped around me like a blanket, urging me into the sea. But, I snapped my eyes open, awake and present, and uttered a single word into the frigid air.

No.

How could I? I didn't belong there. I was not a flake, and I never will be. I didn't come from the sky either.

It's all just a fantasy in my mind.

It isn't my world. My brain has just defocused in an attempt to allow my dreaming brain through. Yet what I need is the opposite- a chance to regain my senses and have enough space to focus on what matters.