Tasting Reality

Why is there a need to sweeten,
When you have to suffer when bitten?

You see the world as it is,
But still want to feel amiss?

The very want of the mass,
To kill death and live crass.
The sights on mounts,
In the wake of jaunts -
A collection of errors that incite
Man to chase an imaginary light.

We wear those plastic masks
To hold our faults in casks.
We never exult when we can,
We kill our mind, and refuse to tan.

The man who started off
To reach, but dies at scoff.
He never learnt that his imperfections
Were as obvious as his infections,
To cough at the onset of cold,
And to bow whenever told.

The scenes around than you can see
Are part of the illusion that is reality.
For as long as you like, you can try;
But don’t be convinced that you can taste reality.

The Flight of Reality & A Hint of Illusions

"Where is the hope that dwindles,
When the end of a tunnel is the start of another?
Where is the spark that kindles,
When the fire that burns is the same that floats a feather?"

* * * * * * *

Wispy clouds floating across
The frosty glass and painted sky -
A final answer to prayers and joss.
Perfect renditions to the eye, but why?

Planets and stars spinning
About an axis of the wildest dreams,
Trapped in leaves of matter thinning,
With sanity bursting from the reams.

Dancing away the illusions,
With thorns gnawing at your soles;
Life is but another's dream extensions,
So complete that you fear the whisper of tolls.

Ego-built barriers to fend
Against the ravage of emotions.
Such strict lines that refuse to bend,
See the last ravish and all its veiled intentions.

A hole awide in your heart,
To hurt you and kill your art.
A hole to spawn the serpents of spite,
To test you and see if you can fight.

Dark angels ringing your halo,
Turning your colours into shadow.
That you are living or not,
Sustaining illusion or reality,
Is the question you'll never get answered.