Garden Of Illusions
FREE VERSE
In the garden of illusions, where reality blooms askew,
Petals of dreams unfurl, surreal hues in twilight’s dew.
Paths meander, teasing senses with whispers of what could be,
Where shadows dance, and echoes of truth bend knee.
Here, the sun casts spells, painting whispers on the breeze,
Invisible hands weave tales through ancient trees.
Each flower wears a mask, hiding secrets deep within,
Roots tangled with hopes, where beginnings and ends begin.
Wanderers tread softly, on pathways unseen,
Where every step echoes with a memory’s sheen.
Illusions bloom boldly, mirages painted bright,
A canvas of possibilities, veiled in the day’s soft light.
But beware the garden’s allure, where time knows no bound,
For truths blend with fables, in whispers that astound.
In this realm of enchantment, where perception holds sway,
The garden of illusions casts its spell, night and day.
So, wanderer, pause and ponder amidst this phantasmal grace,
For in the garden of illusions, reality finds its secret place.
