The Delusion
The cold dark canvass of the pond
Is perfected for natures art
Thriving by the light of its moon
The pond flickers with life
Yet, remains ever still
Waiting
Wanting
Capturing only what is real
Its reflections are distorted
By what lies deep underneath
Habiting murky souls
It remains ever still
Waiting
Wanting
Mesmerizing the mind, it calls
With promises of friendship, peace
But its haunting breath enfolds you
Bequeathing you with fear
Yet, remains ever still
Waiting
Wanting
There is a lone tree by the pond
You run for its stability
Trusting in its deep seeded source
But it is the Delusion
It possesses and leaves you
Waiting
Wanting
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