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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #338262
our lives and the petty make-believes we dwell in
Maya


I walk on the clouds,
avoiding the hurl of frozen rain
reaching out to touch..
my fantastical companion.

I touch him and move back
as I see him dissolve
in a million colour vapour,and fade forever.
While I revel in the thrill of the touch.

My illusions.......this is what they are.
A dreamy sojourn,in a make believe world.

I fly above ,in the great blue yonder,
Knowing no worldly bounds whatsoever.
While I cry trapped within my body of pain,
longing ..yearning for the cage - to break.

Illusions.....Maya is all this is
Endless pain and satiating revelry
The truth of what actually is...........not yet known.

I am but a speck of dust in this entire universe
but with my illusions and my make-believe world,
I become the majestic speck the kingly dust.
I possess and I proclaim too loud for a tiny grain
faking to ignore the truth,that I am no more than a speck of dust
existing amidst this looming field of unknown,
holding tight to my make-believe self........my illusions.
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