The illusions of life become the imaginations of the soul.
Where is that lost piece of divinity man is constantly searching for;
The creation of life is like a plain white puzzle
There is no clue as to where the pieces fit.
Only the far reaches of the mind tell of its' complex diversities
which we fight so hard to uncover;
A mass of cuts and shapes,
A pile of cardboard love,
A stack of cardboard hate.
A change here, a doubt there...
Only the edges of this white puzzle
tell of the shape of this matter to come...
Both take time.
About the Creator
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Comments (1)
What is reality? We all want to uncover it, to see the truth ❤️