Mystery Illusion Poems | Examples
These Mystery Illusion poems are examples of Illusion poems about Mystery. These are the best examples of Illusion Mystery poems written by international poets.
Truth be told, or is it so,
Is strength bronze or tin?
Forever mystery lies so,
In this transcended kin.
Beneath the rust, a fragile heart,
Iron weeps, its strength apart.
A veil of secrets, shadows loom,
Where truth’s enigma finds its tomb.
In fragile echoes, whispers call,
Uncertainty befalls, thoughts of chanciness.
As ready minds begin to fall,
A second thought of unsureness.
Though some say it's peaceful,
A chilling draft, shadows impenetrable.
The touch, cold & luridful,
As if metal guards what’s unfalsifiable.
A muffled sound, a mournful hum,
As secrets whisper, what is keen.
For a darkened blanket casted,
Obscuring truth, a world unseen.
The taste bitter, how obscene,
Obscene in taste, even in earful mean.
Its elasticity is in fact a mystery ~
while time is free to flee as quick as lightning
sometimes it drags on for lengths of eternity.
And for all our hankering and longing
that time would move according to our wishes,
it's never anything but a fool's machination.
While youth is just a memory away ~
the magician waves his wand, and
without a trace into thin air, poof!
the decades swiftly vanish.
AP: 1st place 2025
Dazzling, synthetic lights emanate from polished silver,
Penetrating my deep, chemically induced sleep.
Blinking sensitive eyes, I raise my swirling head.
I sit up and walk into a corridor of glass display cases.
Rustic farm tools, mannequins wearing clothing from the past and present fashions, pottery from long ago…
A collection of some kind, featuring timeless treasures and ordinary items of little to no monetary value.
A discombobulated hoard of flea market finds?
I came to another display difficult to make sense of…another display of mannequins except these wore no clothing and floated in some viscous liquid.
A chill went up my spine and I knew not why until…one opened their eyes and looked at me!
I awaken. Bright sunlight streams into my bedroom windows. I recall everything in a moment of time.
Sitting up, pain and horror, a poisonous flower blossom opening red petals in my mind…
A nightmare or mad illusion? I see nothing but my room, and hear nothing now but…
… silence.
As you hold these works in hand,
Such wonders within do lie,
Let's forget not by whom it was written.
Twas me, myself and I.
Magic awaits, so please tarry not!
Enjoy the spectacular ride.
The pages to follow contain only my voice.
My voice will be your guide.
For you dear reader a brief history.
A glimpse of the voice in your head.
Dark and mysterious, even cold some may say
Of whom your so easily led.
Fear not dear reader. I wish you no harm.
Do follow closely I warn.
Tis a touch of dark mixed with all pretty things.
There is wisdom in that which is torn!
Stay a while dear reader and accompany me
For this will be but a token
To yours truly indeed will bring such a smile
From her face you know not that she's broken.
Illusion of you
By Michelle Morris
21/05/2023
I put the illusion of you
On a pedestal
Our imaginary life
In a wishing well
All the secrets and lies
Hidden in graves
The dead can't speak
They tell no tales
But all that longing
Went nowhere
And all my wishes
Left me in despair
Because you moved on
When you walked away
Left me in tears
Destroyed in your wake
Why I still love you
Is quite the mystery
Because the pedestal tumbled
So spectacularly
The illusions vaporised
The heartache remained
Maybe I still love you
On another plane
© Michelle Morris, 2023
You're there in the pond as like bloomed lotus
I's on the roof of two storey building
Saw you from far sight crossing paddy fields
Juvenile youth made mind embroidered path
I walked there step by step behind the dream
Empty hand seized the heart but with the tears
Rainbow came, peacock danced, cloud shed the rain
Vista was green, birds were happy flying
Bloomed flowers spread love fragrance by the breeze
I brought colorful flowers, songs of birds
Cowboy flute was there to make happy you
Wordsworth, Keats, Tagore were to beautify
But books of loving heart were full flyleaves
Though you made me wanderer by your love
O Dear, illusions, nowadays, I think
Hypnotized me the path of astray love
- December 20, 2019 CTG, BD
in the mirror
smudging off red lipstick
her smile long gone
posted on August 19, 2018
The mind is a play place of unique and distinct thought.
This brings me to thinking of things in my mind I brought.
I could create an image of all the things in the world in my mind.
The meaning of this is some times not so kind.
The recklessness of such choices could make me go insane.
The mind its self is complicated and it's own bane.
When things are so confusing and you see more things than one.
You may as well pack your bags because you are all done.
Minds do check out with creativity as its jail.
One could say it one way that we have a choice to bail.
On the journey of the thoughts of queasiness.
The mind thinks its like a business.
The idea of one image can set a chain of no relief.
That is why we lose our self with disbelief.
Lacking understanding of what we see.
Just means that our mine did not adapt to be.
The lines that our eyes show our brain does not go so well.
It is like a cracked ringing bell.
This is what we have acquired in our recent thought of knowledge.
In our mind we can stand outside without foul-edge.
FACT I:
That decisions are in the form of electric impulses and chemical reactions in the brain…
That these electricity and reactions are facilitated by different chemicals…
That chemicals are just aggregates of atoms…
FACT II:
That we do not have control over atoms.
AND THUS,
we cannot control the chemicals in our brain;
and therefore,
cannot control such reactions and electric impulses;
and therefore,
cannot control our decisions.
Looking around
there is nothing but illusion
Everything is drowned
in the oceans of illusion
Is reality a mere illusion,
when we contemplate this magnificently constructered Universe
in its infinite dimension?
Is there something more breath-taking that makes us speechles?
Whatever we choose to believe
in Creation or Evolution, we are still bewildered
by what we admire with thoughts so reflective...
then no Higher Power is doubted.
What is it about you?
That makes me want to be with you?
That makes my every thought revolve around you?
That makes my every breath, breathed for you?
I’ve never met you in person
The closest we’ve got
to meeting each other
Are words on paper or in this case?
My computer screen…
I’m sure you have
Your moments of anger,
Your moments of sadness…
Which I never get to see
Because you are only words on paper
Or in this case my computer screen...
Does this make my feelings real?
Does this make my longing for you valid?
Does this make me wanting more?
Than just your words on paper
Or in this case my computer screen,
a momentary lapse of sanity?
Are we real?
Or is this just an
ILLUSION?
Eternal sleep.....
a perpetual dreamscape
Looking to escape....
this panoramic landscape
Let our passion travel
As the speed of light;
Allow the snow to lick
Our bodies and freeze
Ecstasy.
Devour this mystery
Which time is unable to
Debase, where dreams are
As jeweled clocks.
Your truth
Lies within
The freedom of
My castle walls.
Everything I can’t remember
Seems to make more sense to me
When did it happen?
How could this come to be?
Seemingly so simple
Yet complex in their own
I sit there and stare
Waiting for the phone
To ring just once
Waiting and watching
For just one person to talk to me
Yet all the things I cant remember
Seem to make more sense to me
Clearly now
Are all the things I fail to see
Ive been doing so much lately
That things have gotten so out of hand
I need a vacation
Put my feet up in the sand
All the things I cant remember
Seem to make more sense to me
And all the faces o so vague
Yet so familiar they do seem