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Life is but a Strange Illusion

How does one fulfill their destiny?
Life is but a strange illusion,
A dream within a dream,
A mystery filled with confusion,
An enigma, or so it may seem.

It makes a challenge to your heart,
And scorns your very soul,
Bursts your spirit with its dart,
And then you lose control.

Step inside it's catacombs,
Lose your very sanity,
In its maddening thoughts, you are doomed,
Confined by your morality.

Observed by those who's circumspect,
Is steeped in paranoia,
What did you try to steal from them,
To pull yourself from their gutter?

'You are free to make your choices rendered,
Make sure you make them well,
We hope they fit our own agenda...
An alternative may burn you in Hell.

Confirm, conform, your alliance,
Kowtow to what is right,
We shall award your own compliance,
By filling your head with shite!'

Alternatively, grow your own,
Your sanity is horticultural,
Know who you are, know where you go,
Do what thou wilt, shall be your law.

Free yourself from the shackles,
That chain you to illusion,
Spit your contempt, raise your hackles,
And challenge their constitution.

With death, the illusion ends,
Freedom makes for immortality,
To liaise with sanity once again,
In all probability!
By
Published: 3/16/2013
Bouquets and Brickbats