As I was searching for truth, I realize that nothing is true.
And so it leaves me only pain, I could escape but what is the use?
It is all temporary.
Well, what could one expect out of an illusionary world.
So I cease my search and shed my feathers, lay down still.
Till time itself runs out.
Till the stalking man comes and he takes me to its darkness.
The stalking man was my shadow, my playmate, my truth
He invites, lures me but what is it that pulls me from behind,
It is frightening how an illusion can have control.
But my playmate calls, pleads and lures again
And again.
Pulls back the illusion
Am I to be stuck in this tug-of-war?
To be pulled till I lose my sanity.
The illusion spoke; it is all a part of the game it whispered.
In a voice so surreal
That I walked back inside the illusion.
Lost my playmate,
My shadow,
My truth,
The stalking man.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 4:07 AM UTC
As I was searching for truth, I realize that nothing is true.
And so it leaves me only pain, I could escape but what is the use?
It is all temporary.
Well, what could one expect out of an illusionary world.
So I cease my search and shed my feathers, lay down still.
Till time itself runs out.
Till the stalking man comes and he takes me to its darkness.
The stalking man was my shadow, my playmate, my truth
He invites, lures me but what is it that pulls me from behind,
It is frightening how an illusion can have control.
But my playmate calls, pleads and lures again
And again.
Pulls back the illusion
Am I to be stuck in this tug-of-war?
To be pulled till I lose my sanity.
The illusion spoke; it is all a part of the game it whispered.
In a voice so surreal
That I walked back inside the illusion.
Lost my playmate,
My shadow,
My truth,
The stalking man.
Request permission to use this poem