Long Illusions Poems
Long Illusions Poems. Below are the most popular long Illusions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Illusions poems by poem length and keyword.
We were given one garden,
One womb spun in stardust and sea foam,
But we — children of steel and smoke —
Turned it into a battlefield of greed.
The trees whispered secrets of balance,
But we silenced them with chainsaws.
The rivers wept in silver tones,
Now they gag on plastic and oil.
Oceans rise not in wrath —
But in sorrow.
Mountains crumble under the weight
Of our endless hunger.
We drill into her lungs,
Build monuments on her broken bones,
While she, ancient and patient,
Bleeds chlorophyll and cries in storms.
We chase Mars like fools —
Dreaming of red dust kingdoms
While choking the blue cradle
That has always held us.
Colonize the stars?
We haven’t even earned the ground we stand on.
We mistake technology for wisdom,
And illusions for evolution.
Gaia does not hate —
She endures.
But she will cleanse herself,
With fire, with flood, with ice,
Until silence returns.
And when the last human voice
Vanishes into ash,
She will bloom again —
Brighter. Wilder. Free.
We had a home.
We had a chance.
We chose profit over prophecy.
And so, the Earth will heal —
But not for us.
Time, what a Chaotic being it is
It is Loved and Feared by everyone
It can dismantle everyone but yet it can also restore everyone
But Time can't perfectly heal us
Time hasn’t heal the wounds left by you
Time won't heal the mental scars by your parents
Time didn't heal the scars you afflicted by yourself
Time couldn't heal the damages done by your so call friends
You are not immune to Time, nobody truly is
You got bruised Physically and Emotionally
Ponder this then
Is Time genuinely your ally
Or
Is it your nemesis
Time will never perfectly restore your wounds, only partially
They will serve you as a reminder
Of which that
Illusions are in fact real
Not everyone is golden
Not everyone is your companion
Galaxies of glory
Strikes me vigorously
Stars do shine
Like turning wine
You are mine like guitar strings
You're my serpentine swine (holding unto someone that's stubborn)
I am like a butterfly without wings
Darkness will not veil His illumination
Galaxies of glory is our passionate destination
Illusions of delusional delight
Is seen in your eyes that ignite
Arising agony is spiritual suffering
In the black hole of obscurity
Left unnoticed...envy glows and grows in a hurry
Wondering if you guys
Can wander off like dragon flies
Vines of vibrant, never-ending vivaciousness
Crawl...in my veins
Authentic radiance reduces me to this universe mess
Go drive in your lanes
Froward heart,
Listen please
Before you blast off
Into your rebellious space
Speechless,
I must confess
You're conveying a message of your eustress
Transforming hopes into distress...in large excess
Thorough thoughtfulness
Will delete your senselessness
Foolish fire devours my wisdom empire
Good luck, for I'm wishing upon His grace
You're my inspiration
And my motivation
Scoffer, mocker - who is the creator?
Isn't it His true desire?
Liar,
Listen to His truth and knowledge
Understand that I'm on edge...
Failures without a trace,
Give up your success and embrace
Galaxies of glories...galaxies of mere glories
And stop listening to bittersweet allegories
That is as adorable as rainbow cat purrs
And delectable, creative dandelion furs
Today is a wonderful day
Today shines bright when you say
You love me positively...
We're seeking ecstasy...
Next to sun-beaming sea
Today is going by slowly,
But my heart ain't beating with remorse or angstiety
Reluctantly,
I smile halfheartedly
Please don't stop the epic music
It's extremely therapeutic, it's so sick
I'm a true, genius writer
But, doubt slips into the heart of the poet...
I'm like a black widower -
Envy, gluttony and hatred left me with regret...
I have nothing to lose
You have to choose
The light side of me
Or the dark side of me...
Because you'll finally see...
That I'm not perfect, baby
I thought it would be easier once I got to the other side
had no idea I faced a surging tide of
guilt and sorrow and even regret
for things I did before my death.
Tears sting my eyes as I realize
no second chance here ..to be got
can't go back to make things right.
Tortured spirit, now I am
wish I had that second chance.
On the earth below ...I see my children
still staggering under the painful blows
I inflicted upon them over the years.
I weep for them.... the loves of my life
now struggling to deal with inner scars
inflicted by a father who should have been their friend.
Instead left them with questions
the answers they will never find.
When I lived among them...I thought only of myself
alcohol and women I took to my bed.
My nights were illusions of heightened delights
now I see they were simply the wiles of the devil
blinding me to what was right.
I hope one day to achieve inner peace
and move on to that special place.
Maybe in time my angels will teach
me to forgive myself and move on again
what's done cannot be undone.
I hope others learn from my mistakes
hurting others is not fun
Only pain and regret will follow you
when your time on earth is done.
Like to think reality is simple,
one is born, lives, and dies;
nothing comes before nor after --
what one sees is all there is,
notion of spirit sure complicates
things...
And love should be simple
(so unlike love), better if
a mere chemical reaction
the concept of a heart that feels,
thinks outside its required beats
is mentally upsetting --
is spiritually suggestive...
I mean, the acceptance that thinking
is merely the process of cause-and-effect
plays mayhem with my personal
experiences, often befuddled by others --
Where are these stored illusions,
perhaps revealed when an autopsy
of the soul?
More rational for my senses:
reactions are from feelings;
a braining nothing alive without
a mind – life clearly connections
through an oblivious conduit body --
Atheism, an unsolvable mystery
In the twilight of forgotten dreams,
Where shadows intertwine with whispers of the past,
I traverse the ruins of gods,
Their thrones turned to dust, their voices mere echoes.
I speak of divinities, though my heart is an empty vessel,
A canvas of belief, unpainted, untouched,
Yet, in this void, I am an artist,
A weaver of tales, a sculptor of illusions.
Do not believe a word I say, for in my art,
Lies the paradox of intertwined truth and falsehood,
Each sentence a labyrinth, each metaphor a veil.
I hold no faith, yet I evoke realms of belief,
I sing hymns of the divine,
Yet my melody is that of a skeptic,
An ode to the void, a psalm of silence.
The truth I speak is but a mirage,
A reflection in the waters of doubt,
For to understand is to lie,
To express is to deceive.
In the realm of the psyche, my words are symbols,
Shadowy figures dancing on the walls of the mind,
In the realm of beauty, they are metaphors,
Elegant masks of the unfathomable truth.
So walk with me through these ruins,
Feel the melancholy of forgotten gods,
And in the silence between my words,
Listen for the truth that lies beneath the lie.
For in this dance of shadows and light,
In the ever-flowing stream of consciousness,
We find the essence of our being,
A fleeting glimpse of eternity, hidden in the ephemeral.
Do not believe in my words, but in the silence I weave,
For in that silence lies the true magic,
The melancholy of existence, the poetry of life.
Here now we live in body-mind,
wherein our heart, loving and kind,
cajoles us to slow down life’s pace,
free from feral cravings that bind.
Be this as it may, life’s rat race,
estranges us from love’s embrace,
dimming God’s light that glows within,
since thrust of lust is what we chase.
Eye on desire, we seek to win,
by means fair or foul, that’s our sin
but the joy we seek eludes us,
as we’re deafened by thought flow din.
Such is our life, dark fears nonplus;
like a spoilt child, we fret and fuss
over illusions, the mundane,
refusing to board God’s bliss bus.
We have freedom but are insane,
trauma bonding with desire’s chain,
preferring to remain asleep,
thus prolonging our ego’s rein.
If we’d take a consciousness leap,
we must dare to swim in the deep,
resting in silence, self-aware,
feeling within every bliss beep.
Soul suffocates, give it some air;
meld head with heart and with love pair,
that thus doing nothing at all,
demonic desires we outstare.
Who we are, in stillness recall,
which is living light, standing tall,
recognition that makes us smile,
whence in darkness we’ll never fall.
Rumbling collision of vapour,
The dancing ritual the increased
caper, acts of earthly vigil,
autonomously the same above, the
cosmic storm fitted quietly upon the
pupil, all fractions and pixelled
evolving minerals, blinking gold-
laden crystal, the workshop of clarity
, the milk and oil contrast reality, the
true light festering among the
counter core of creation, giving
place to life just a sound a musical
note, manifested 'this' into being as
perceived, contrived through it and
believing, if you lose meaning that's
the mind retreating from the
anarchy peace your seeking, soul
stirringly appealing, jump out from
the blocks of inner vision and into
the springs of new dimensions,
sinking illusions finger tipped grasp
at perfection, not a lonely road but
one of anguish and sorrow, dying
today searching for tomorrow, then
your begin to understand nature's
complaint, and nature's reason for
acts of terror and charges of treason
I have seen falling stars in the eyes of shadows,
dancing on the dark sky of unspoken words.
I have stood in ballrooms filled with sculpted smiles,
hiding glass daggers in velvet pockets.
I have shaken hands that seemed like contracts with forgotten spirits,
promising loyalty that evaporates into subtle betrayals.
I have seen good men bend under the weight of expectations,
turning into shadows because it's easier to get lost.
But me? I remained a dreamer with a heart of gold,
not soft like silver, not naive like a rainbow,
but real like a tree in a storm, perhaps foolishly real.
I refused to sell my soul for dirty illusions.
They laughed, said I wouldn't get far,
without cutting corners of truth, sharpening my smile.
But I didn't come to play a role in the theater of shadows,
I came to live a life that wouldn't leave me empty.
I was betrayed by friends with masks cemented by time,
by systems that protect power and crush silence,
by moments that asked me to become a statue of stone.
But I didn't, I kept walking with an open heart.
I bled, cried in the silence of the night,
asked the sky about everything, but never this:
being real is not a weakness, being good is not madness.
It's a strength few know, but I carry it.
I've lost people, the warm comfort of whispers,
I've lost chances, but kept my light alive.
And you know what? That's something magical, maybe not in titles,
but in the silent mirror of the morning, I know I'm whole.
And that's enough, I'm still here, still walking,
still warm in a cold world, honest in a universe of lies.
I'm still me, and I regret nothing...
It's too late, beloved, for our dream shattered,
Under the night sky, chimeras have us buried,
Intoxicated with illusions, wrapped in cigarette perfume,
On deserted streets, we are shadows of dreams unfulfilled.
We're lost in the labyrinth of forgotten corners,
Us, wax figures melted in the moonlight,
Bodies scorched by the flame of silent incapabilities,
In this dance of forgetfulness, against an outdated backdrop.
Oh, times, oh, mores, what fate has been decreed?
In this vain search, what meaning have we let slip?
I look for you at dusk, I lose myself in wanderings,
We flail in the silence of an anachronistic time, with no way out.
Time runs, but to where, it no longer knows,
Its patience worn thin by our tribulations,
My abulia and passivity, will they yet endure?
Is there still room for a drop of romance, one last poem?
Too late for romance, too late for dreaming,
Too late for you, too late for me,
In this twilight, the ephemeral takes its leave,
For infinity, we remain unfinished, uncommenced.
Too early for hopes, too late for regrets,
In our own late hour, all seems lost,
Too late for new beginnings, too early for endings,
In this dance of fate, amor fati is our final chorus.
And so, in the silence of the night, we fade into the void,
Our love, a shattered dream, an echo of the past,
In this fleeting world, we remain just two strangers,
Lost in time, lost in ourselves, lost in everything.