"In this life, to die is nothing new, but of course,there is even less novelty in living" ---C.A. Ecenin

“Illusions”

Destiny winds itself in little circles,

slowly sketching tragedy

in tiny lines, to and fro,

in the dust of Time.

We follow patterns shaped by fate,

darting quietly to an abrupt stop.

Narrow detours are laid before our feet;

simplicity twisted into a complex nothingness,

shaped only by illusions. Imaginary boundaries rise

and fall, collapsing into the past.

But memories we leave behind

will someday reemerge

from the shadows of our minds.

And so, as fate has chosen,

we too shall fade

to a mere conjuring of the mind.

And winds shall make bare our path,

erasing Destiny’s toil.

Life blooms only in our minds.

I let the seasons fade

Into an oblivion of

Meaningless patterns.

A faerie song of willow notes

Branching into death.

So many illusions

we occupy ourselves with.

Images of faded glory

Crowned by the impending fall.

A breath of warmth

Will chill the blood

And we will shed our youth

Like the colors of the spring.

--end--

Thank you very much for reading my poem... of course, to make your kind deed complete, you must leave me a review! I encourage you to give me as much criticism as you can. I've been writing poetry for less then a year, and advice is most desired. If you happened to like this poem, I reccomend that you check out some of my other poems on this site. Again, thank you!

Toodles!