There was once, a truth and a lie.
One reality and one illusion.
Reality and an illusion of reality.

____________

Imagine complete darkness.
An empty place.
An empty space.
Imagine, emptiness.

In that complete emptiness,
Realis & Speculum.
Two nebulous, start appearing.

----------------------------

The first was brighter than what you can never dream to see.
Its radiance was a splendor,
Its burst was a sparkle.
It was entire, it was all,
But not all there is.

The second was kind of empty,
But not really empty,
Not empty at all.
It looked real,
But not really.
It was of a very light glow,
It shines, but with no light.
It was of no color,
Nor white, nor black, nor grey.
It was kind of a transparent mirror,
Kind of an illusion.
It was there,
But nothing is in there.

----------------------------

In the way simultaneously they appeared,
simultaneously they were growing.

Slowly they were growing,
But fast they filled the space.

In the moment, they are collapsing,
In eternity, they are creating.
___________

The illusion was a mirror,
it is collapsing,
Into billions of millions of pieces.

The reality was one,
And it kept being one.
____________

Now,
In the moment,
We have one truth,
And an infinity of lies.
And in each lie, you see the truth.
In each piece of that mirror,
You see a reflection of the truth.

You can keep looking for the truth,
But you only going to find reflections of it.

Because the truth is you,
The truth is within you.

Stop looking around.
You are true.
-------------
It is true !
-------------
But keep in mind,
That to every you,
There is another you.
Where ever you are,
Your self, your ego, your mirror,
Is there too.
-------------
It is true !

Pain has struck my aching chest;
And I fear the time has come.
Where my world and dreams may fall apart
And my days slip to eternal glum.

I wish to see why I weep
The dark , distant nights away.
No sympathy, no one to see
The numbness I carry through the day.

Must I find the broken path
That may free me from this room.
But I do not know where to turn
To escape the place where nightmares loom.

Shadows haunt damaged body's
And comfort them when they fall.
Please understand we can't be saved
Until the day death consumes us all.

Sweet western wind, whose luck it is,
  Made rival with the air,
To give Perenna’s lip a kiss,
  And fan her wanton hair:

Bring me but one, I’ll promise thee,
  Instead of common showers,
Thy wings shall be embalm’d by me,
  And all beset with flowers.

An aching sadness
Now collecting dust,
Like a childhood toy,
Now all but forgotten.
Brought into the light,
Despite my best efforts,
Like a deadly poison,
With a certain sweetness.

Dusk is an old man with a gray cape,
Who walks with a limp and a cane.
Turning on street lights and lights in the windows
Sending the children home from their play.

When they're all safe, he smiles to himself
And hums a soft, little song
That sounds a little like little bugs buzzing
As he hobbles along.

He pauses a while in the trees near the pond,
Waves his cane and stirs up the frogs;
Then he moves on through the outskirts of town,
Along silent gardens and past barking dogs.  

He fixes his gaze upon distant hills,
That fade in a warm, violet mist;
He shakes out his cape--the pine trees turn black,
Dew starts at a flick of his wrist.

He stops by the park to smoke a cigar
That glows as it gets almost dark;
When it goes out, he leaps to the sky
And disappears like a spark.

I am sewing a dress
with the thread of strength,
And knots of ambitions,
And when it’s ready,
Then will iron it
with the remission,
I am sewing my broken soul!

By: Nida Mahmoed.

A flower's beauty
Lives not within earthly realms
Only within dreams

Also love, as things unseen
Lives forever, floating me

©  2017 Jim Davis