Center of Illusion

Light; the pervading theme,
Darkness steals the show,
Life the common dream,
The dreamer’s treasures glow,
The day breakers find fault,
With all that life has wrought.
Centered on illusion,
Crippled with life’s walk.
Self and crucifixion,
Pain is borne with pride,
Truth is spiked with fiction,
Death’s true killer died,
A lover’s healing touch,
Could never mean so much.
Blinded with a vision,
Falling from the ground.
Roses descend from the heavens,
And we mortify ourselves with the thorns, God’s figure lost in our shadow,
And we presume all innocence,
And the world of mirrors; designed to please,
Snake smooth glass of midas touch,
Each planet spinning their moon,
The stars their fertile pasture,
Yet desolate winds whistle thru the ruins, Of each stone and alter like a
sacrificial ghost,
And around this mirror in framed magnificence,
The idolater lingers in praise.
Not blood that these hearts bleed,
Nor light that feeds this sky,
Desire much less than greed,
In the mirror of each blind eye,
Members of the grand illusion,
Players in vulgar delusion.
Centered on the hurt,
Radiate the pain.