Sonnet 4

All that I view feels like an illusion.

None of it seems to come near.

Has it become all that I fear?

Is there anyone who can feel my confusion?

Is this maybe just a delusion.

Everything vanish that I hold dear.

Will my vision ever become clear?

Will these thoughts ever come to a conclusion?

What if the soul could be released.

Escape from the body in which it stayed.

Eventually it will become nothing more than a shade.

It will know that the mind is deceased.

How come it is so difficult to feel?

Maybe it is not even real.

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