Illusion

what a cold star i would make. — 	seven word poem // r.i.d (via inkskinned)

In the hush moments of orange silence
A war between scissors and wet lips occur
where this smoke burns my tongue and vapours of half abstraction arise
A deluge of storms and black skins float, black is favourite.
Between lights and array of point blank, something goes missing
Between my white thigh and quarantine of delusions, my toothaches
A series of corpse surround my waistline, delphic view of sorrows drip
smoke burns the truth, I spill the scars like a needle piercing my susceptible skins,
A burning wall of benumbing silence churns inside my mouth.
Vexation, annihilation, perception.
And the rest is all illusion.


©My Valiant Soul

53 Comments

  1. what matters most is what think
    and what we believe
    this becomes our reality
    illusion becomes the illusion
    life’s magic the magician’s
    white gloved hands distracts us
    to perform the trick
    conceal the illusion
    one thing I have observed
    is that with every passing day
    all of us are dying,
    but very few of us are living
    life is short
    which makes being here…magical
    enjoy the miracle of life
    it’s the only one you get
    Have a nice day star diamond.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. It clarifies in your mind what is real because you make it real.
        You create the reality that you desire.
        And you will.
        Illusion becomes simply illusion, is identified as such, and has no place in your reality.
        Have a nice evening star diamond.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I suppose within those hushed moments anything can become an illusion… our minds create whatever is felt in that moment (atleast that’s what I get from reading :)… amazing as always!!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. A wonderful plethora of images. The opening line is beautiful for how often I’ve been lost thinking in a glowing sunset and this is what that line reminded me of. The in between, all that smoke clouding perception. And the realization in the last line that anything outside what we are feeling at the moment, what we can taste, what numbs us, may all be an illusion. Maybe, that we feel is an illusion, too. A great description of a moment of contemplation about what is real and what is illusion. Beautiful as always!!!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I know things are often an illusion and we cannot define even if it is.
      You resonate with this and thus that makes me believe there are people like me too thinking about such illusions if any.
      I am grateful to you as you liked the imagery of smoke as I relate to this very often.
      You are my one genuine and honest reader to which I shall always be obliged.
      So much respect for you!

      Liked by 3 people

      1. I do understand this very well. You are welcome, Devika and thank you for the humbling words. I love your writing! Peace and respect, my friend.

        Liked by 2 people

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