Warmth and Illusion
By Irioth
Dusk at summer
Sunset adds a counterpoint to a mood
He wonders why he doesn't go back inside
He wonders a lot of things, but mostly that
Deep down of course, the answer is evident
As are other answers, to other questions
He spends the evening pondering truth
He knows that outside, with the sunset, he can partake in an illusion
Outside doesn't seem real, the only truth is in thought
To go in would be to accept reality
To return to the harsh warmth of reality
The sunset has its own warmth
And his thoughts have their own truth
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Copyright 2005 Irioth
Published on Thursday, June 30, 2005.
Filed under:
"Poetry"