Incoherence

I knew that the water I saw was a mirage. Unfathomable depths seemed shallow when measured. This is a world where facts and fancies camouflage Within wombs of empty tombs, riches are treasured. The sketch that looked like a wall was, in truth, a pole. Beasts that dined on guavas at night weren't crows but bats. My crammed glance makes the earth resemble a ball I pause and cut short my tours, confronting black cats. Peeping through the holes of Qutab Minar, I faint. Shouldn't I reach the top? Should I simply go back? With colours of likes and dislikes my walls I paint. With burdens of pessimism, my corridors crack. Are these angels I find herein mere illusions? Are these candours that have been tested, delusions?