What's an illusion?
Please answer me, please.
It gives me confusion
And I'm not at ease.
What is reality?
Is it what we see?
Is it called humanity
If I seek thee?
What is real?
And what's an illusion?
Is what I feel
A hallucination?
Do we exist?
And what is existence?
My mind's in a twist,
Resisting resistance.
Is the truth false
Or is the false true?
Are we not just dolls
That have been breathe into?
Is this just a dream
That God made for me?
Are things what they seem?
I'm missing the key.
Do I really feel cold?
Does it really taste bitter?
Is the world really old?
Was it made by a knitter?
Is time even real?
What am I even saying?
Is this such a big deal
That I keep on asking?
Is the truth being sealed?
Or does it even exist?
Shall it be revealed?
'Cause I'm getting pissed.
Is there a reason at all
For me to get mad?
Is there even a wall
That I should be sad?
It's the harsh reality.
Oh wait, maybe not.
Am I approaching insanity?
Will I lose what I've got?
Do I have a purpose?
Do I have a curse?
Am I in a ruckus?
Am I getting worse?
Will dying end this
Or must it be the world?
Must I wait for Death's kiss
Or when I turn into mold?
An illusion, it's real.
The reality, a dream.
I must conceal
My morbid scream.
My mind's a wormhole
That goes to and fro.
I'm hurting my soul,
My thoughts; my own foe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
no answer only illusion, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.