The Illusion

This illusion is a deceitful toy

You have no idea where to repose 

Fidgety fingers and throbbing heart

Palpitating life under duress

Wiping off the forehead with grimy hands

Leaking toy messes with the hands

Whether to play with it or destroy?

Miserable thoughts guide the hand

Are the sighs and pain worthy?

Feeling guilty for every action

Not being busy is a cursed syndrome

So, play with the feelings

Become little daring and swindle

The wealth of love from someone’s bosom

Becomes second nature

Compulsions of setting up someone

To fondle without consent

Miseries are sought and invited

Indulgences and forbidden desires

Life is ought to be played with

Some fancy advertising slogan

Painting life and dipping it in darkness

Metaphorical euphoria 

Life is loaded with euphemisms

Illusions will persist

On has to play and play along too

Toying with other destructive ideas

Rules of ruins and nowhere to run


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