What World

What world have I been in for all of this time
Where trying is nothing but space in the mind?
And where filling is doing, and doing all right;
Where shadows mean only the failure of light.

And intent is nothing before actions alone,
And thinking is silently vacating its throne
To leave the intricacies of the world
To somehow, slowly, cultivate dying flowers.

I wish I could leave you to color in your squares
As I draw semicircles to swim in,
But they are quickly being filled.
What world have I been in for all of this time?