Secret Illusion
Secrets of society
The plight of humanity
It’s all a game of hide and seek
That’s making our future look so bleak
Remove the blindfolds that cover your eyes
Come out of the darkness and into the sun
See the truth about our His-Story
A story made up to cover up the reality of society
It’s all an illusion to confuse you
To the truth about humanity
What you see is what you get
Is all a crock of shit
Life is a game and we’ve all been played
The reasons for the trials and tribulations
Are not what’s been taught but they’ve been bought
By our minds and our thoughts
Been brainwashed into believing this illusion is real
Makes you feel like you want to kill
Can’t believe what you see, it’s a shame to be
So blinded by the secrets of society
Truth is out there if you seek it
But it’s hidden very deep, disguised as evil
With a mask to deceive you
Wake up to the illusion before it’s to late
Or the secrets will seal our fate!
About the Creator
Dana Toliver
I wrote my first poem in 1990 not relaizing it would be the beginning to my forthcoming book titled SOUL SEARCH'N; the story of my life journey told through peoms and short stories. The content I post here are from my book.
Keep reading
More stories from Dana Toliver and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis7 days ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.