an old man's illusion...

born out of an impotent desire
grown old with a lame apathy
the tired old man
looks into the mirror
searches for the face
that was his
and sees that
he has become the illusion
in which he once believed

dreams of an oasis
every word, every thought
every blink of eyes
was poetry coming to life
he was young, restless
he had a lot to prove
so he struggled and strived
he used to die everyday
to keep his dreams alive


but then one day
reality appeared before him
and he faced the
illusion he was living
illusion of love
of hope, of greatness
of liberation
of things larger than life
illusion of a world
that was beautiful
and worth fighting for

the reality took over him
and he saw his ideas rot away
word by word, phrase by phrase
he felt his dreams dying
a slow suffocating death

and now he is alive
but not living anymore
the incomplete poem
frozen over his stoned eyes
his wrinkled soul
visible on his face
what's left
is just the illusion
in which he once believed