The Illusions I Discover

A Shakespearean Sonnet

Photo by Jessica Pamp on Unsplash

The illusion I seek to discover
Is etched deep on the back wall of my brain
That hidden place where things run for cover
And attempt through signals to rightly tame

Theories collide to portray their results
Often clouded by the daily routines
Carefully crafted by new extreme cults
Who rearrange our direction and dreams

Are we not lost tools without a toolshed
Claiming a place and then losing our way
Filling the spaces in our vacant heads
As we battle away through the long day

Can this illusion of what is still be
Ask not of this poet who is lost like me.
— WOLRAD

(A sonnet from the Wolrad collection #394)