Delusion
All are lunatics, but he who analyses his delusion
is called a philosopher.” Ambrose Bierce
Delusion
In youthful days some may conceive
The world to be a bed of rose,
But very soon one does perceive
That it`s dull, dreary and morose.
In prime of youthful days, some dream
Of the brotherhood of all man,
But anon, one is forced to stream
In a rat race to oust one`s own friends.
In days of youth, some envision
A world where flags of peace flap high,
But soon one`s wrapped with delusion
With wars wrecking men`s lives with sigh.
In midst of youth, some may hanker
For those at the helm of the state
To have clean minds, free from blunders,
And well manage a country`s fate.
Yet when glaring truth comes to light,
Truth that` s often hard to digest,
It obliterates one`s delight
And gives rise to ripples of stress.
In youth some yearn the world to change,
Uplift moral values of man,
Render the earth less and less strange
Ward off folks from sinking in dens.
Yet when stinking reality
Spears aloft its venomous head,
One may be appalled verily
And wish the world to wane instead.
Most youths on reaching manhood stage
Come to grips with reality,
But a few still cling to dream phase
And are blown by fatality.
Such souls shine in realms of their own,
Realms of pure imagination
By themselves fostered, sown and grown,
A realm of real delusion.
It is a realm of fantasy
Where the weavers perceive features
That don`t hang in actuality,
But are their own in-built creatures.
Such delusion disrupts their life,
Limits scope to fend for themselves,
Renders living a real strife
For close of kin and their own self.
Souls afflicted with delusions,
Dwelling in their own illusions
Merit kind consideration
And from all men true compassion.
Copyright ©
Krishnanand Guptar
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