I've created an illusion
out of paper mache and wood.
Painted it with water colours
which made the illusion
glow like a thousand suns
caught in a mirror.
I took care to ensure
that each and every line
of my creation was as accurate
as fantasy can be.
When it was finished,
I stood it like an icon
upon a table. In some
fashion I would learn
to pay it respect
and reverence it like
some sort of Virgin Mary
statute caught in
a dusty church.
This illusion has many
different possibilities.
It can exist on any
level that satisfies me.
It can be re-created
in a million various
patterns, each one
as real as the last.
This paper mache and wood
creation, this temporary
attempt at an illusionary life,
stands in frozen testimony
to the chaotic nature
of my reality.
In creating this illusion,
I have become like a god,
breathing life into
the first man.
I've created an illusion
out of paper mache and wood.
Now I can pretend that
this is a real disease and
let it eat away at my soul.
Very well expressed, as
Very well expressed, as always you build your words into worthy, merited work! Thanks for sharing
Vive le Quebec libre!