Illusions Poems - Poems about Illusions

I write my illusions, not out of cowardice, but from that stubborn mercy I owe to my own spirit that withers under the weight of time, reality, with its arithmetic of pale bones, rarely adds up to salvation, it's merely a tally of sorrows, debts of silence, and interest paid in insomnia, I lie to myself, not to deceive,...

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I smiled when I saw The figure in front I ran to get close But only hugged smoke...

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Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods ********************** I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks? to all those who gifted me countless worries through the years. Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror. I sail...

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In the garden where illusions grow like paper flowers under the velvet sky, Life is woven like a tapestry of shadows and lights fading into the distance, A sweet lie we embrace with open arms, For the pure truth, like a cold wind, might scatter our dreams, We paint our reality with the oils of dreams and unfulfilled hopes, While...

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You live like this, sheltered in a delicate world crafted from dreams and illusions, Believing you are truly living, while your steps are guided by routine, But then you open a book... or embark on an unexpected journey, And discover that you are not living, but hibernating, asleep in an apparent silence. The symptoms of hibernation are easy to...

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And here we are, on the orbit of our illusions, civilized madmen who have lost their compass, the divine savage in garments of convention, hiding the mysteries of the true soul, living in the shadow of dreams, searching for answers, in the mirror of time that never forgets. Alive on a cold morning that embraces the city, I walk the foggy streets,...

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Life has many mirrors like a Fun House, many nooks and crannies different paths and roadways that can take you in various directions You may believe steadfast in your feelings that you have chosen the right one, the one for you But after awhile other circumstances come to light new emotions surface and you begin to question the rightness of it all Was it just a temporary station on your path...

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In a realm of tranquil illusions, weary spirits find thrones of comfort, Lives frozen in monotonous dances, dolls forgotten in the windows of dead time, Middle-aged souls, ghosts of lost hope, nestle into routine, The leaden embrace of stagnation promises them an eternity of divine peace. Deep within the soul, fear sneaks in like an underground stream, The fear that...

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all that is, is a play of light crystallised as myriad forms known by sages who have clear sight bravely weathering life’s fierce storms if we’re enabled, we can see all that is, is a play of light the sky is veiled by our mind tree fear makes day too seem like the night soul has fallen from heaven’s height this manifest...

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Empire of Illusions Once, I had an empire, but I was forced to set it on fire. One day, I realized it was all a hoax, crafted by fake crooks and plastic looks. Something in the static masked the dead and sick, until a revelation pushed me towards lamentation. The clothes I put on are woven with threads...

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Amidst illusions of eternity, do they fear death or the loss of vanity, walking through existence, raising fragile monoliths of silent legacy, believing their names will echo through the ages, as if permanence were a gift, not a delusion woven from desires, a dream lost under a bitter sky. But history erodes with precision, turning emperors into mere footnotes, changing...

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Living in a false vision,while creating illusions of bad decisions.In my past when my footsteps became ashes,I was stealing for others who really need it.I position myself in danger countless times for strangers with smiling faces who take advantage of kindness,weakness,and talents.But now that Im polished in my craft,Im well balanced surrounded with solid knowledge...

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In the realm of dreams we wander, Crafting worlds both bright and somber. Lost in illusions we have spun, Entwined with shadows, every one. The dreamer crafts each fleeting scene, Woven with whispers, soft, serene. Yet dreams themselves hold mystic might, Born from our thoughts, both day and night. How do we wake from this deep trance? When reality seems to dance? Both creator and...

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Perhaps primordial humans have fewer illusions to shed, fewer chains to break, While we, in the labyrinth of modernity, drown in waves of deceptive teachings, A soul must be ready to let go of everything, not just fleeting riches, But all the lies whispered to it, the entire brainwashing of society. One must leave behind false stories, free oneself...

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clouds cried in pain and turned purple-pink ataraxia is on the rise the saviour has arrived to turn the blood moon back to gray was it all an illusion, a dream? i opened my eyes they are nowhere to be found certainly a beautiful place to visit to take my pain away even if it's just in a dream...

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