I just read a poem about Illusions and our spiritual inner self. I wrote this last week.
Real Or Not?
My reality is filled with nightmares,
But are my nightmares merely dreams?
Are dreams the solid reality
Where nothing is what it seems?
I can touch and feel the colours
That paint the visions that I see.
I experience all the pain
That reaches out and touches me.
I hear the screams that are cried in solitude,
Of the harmed and murdered souls.
It was not me that wanted the nightmares
But I cannot change the roles.
If the dreams are nightly terrors
And the daily torments a trance I must endure?
Do the voices that come to haunt me
Hold the key to whatever is the cure?
In the past there were others
On which the blame could be hurled.
Now there’s only me amongst the living
Left to carry the curse that is my world.
© 2019 Daniel Kemp All rights reserved