Is it illusion or simple delusion
That allows us to see the weirdest things?
Our minds can create any number of demons
From childhood trauma
To adult confrontations
We are all prone to seeing what might not be there.
I’ve seen them gathering
Hiding behind the smoke of deception
Those tell-tale signs that all is not right
That behaviours can be misleading
Accepting the different between fantasy and reality
Is a fine line all too often not noticed?
But denied and ignored
Until we hit the mountain
the one that’s always there
But we didn’t see or chose not to see.
I went to the gallery
Viewed the artist in question
Questioned his intend
Why did he have to fly away?
His life ending in fire and confusion
Just when I was getting to like him.
Back in suburbia, houses had lives of their own
Each haunted by a past
Of intrigue, lies and deceitfulness
The monsters assembled
Each an agenda
But none wanting to go it alone
They slid into dark recesses
Licking wounds and harbouring grudges
Watching waiting for the penny to drop
For their grievances to come alive
And vengeance of a kind
Only they understood
Rained down on you and me.