Mirage

A Poem by evanescere

The morose wander among us,
they put up personas of felicity to hide the shadow of their true self.
The collapsed stand tall among us,
making foundations anew knowing they will crumble.
The hollow sit beside us,
pretending to have found value.
The dejected sleep beside us,
pretending to be at peace.

In the end everyone dies,
The dead meander among the living,
Watching the time pass,
Realising how not a single broken soul exists,
How every person is just a mirage,
The real personas hiding behind the mirage,
Becoming an endless void it consumes slowly,
Till the fateful day when death comes knocking,
Atlas free from the shadow of the mirage it breaks out,
For no mirage exists among the dead,
For there lies no heaven nor hell after death,
Just the dead consumed by their own void,
Hoping for salvation that they know will never arrive.