When the walls start falling in on you
You see the pictures closely and discover they are all fake
Then you tread slowly down a corridor of mirrors and glass
Some you can see through clearly
Some are disfigured and distorted
But most are just illusions.
They are just illusions
Especially that image of your self.
in truth every thing is delusion. in reality every thing can be true, even god. do you know the defrence between reality and truth. reality should be concrete but truth should not be, it can be also abstract!
I've had some experience of this, too. by the way, I think you have a typo, though to say we 'ate illusions' is also true, probably.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the way you really express the turmoil Ghada. Very inspiring. Sincerely, Mary