The Illusion Poem by Danielle Mari Nidea

What's an illusion?
Please answer me, please.
It gives me confusion
And I'm not at ease.

What is reality?
Is it what we see?
Is it called humanity
If I seek thee?

What is real?
And what's an illusion?
Is what I feel
A hallucination?

Do we exist?
And what is existence?
My mind's in a twist,
Resisting resistance.

Is the truth false
Or is the false true?
Are we not just dolls
That have been breathe into?

Is this just a dream
That God made for me?
Are things what they seem?
I'm missing the key.

Do I really feel cold?
Does it really taste bitter?
Is the world really old?
Was it made by a knitter?

Is time even real?
What am I even saying?
Is this such a big deal
That I keep on asking?

Is the truth being sealed?
Or does it even exist?
Shall it be revealed?
'Cause I'm getting pissed.

Is there a reason at all
For me to get mad?
Is there even a wall
That I should be sad?

It's the harsh reality.
Oh wait, maybe not.
Am I approaching insanity?
Will I lose what I've got?

Do I have a purpose?
Do I have a curse?
Am I in a ruckus?
Am I getting worse?

Will dying end this
Or must it be the world?
Must I wait for Death's kiss
Or when I turn into mold?

An illusion, it's real.
The reality, a dream.
I must conceal
My morbid scream.

My mind's a wormhole
That goes to and fro.
I'm hurting my soul,
My thoughts; my own foe.