Born in imaginations...nourished in thoughts and simply dies when it is out...
Like how a thirsty wanderer dances in sheer joy when he sights a mirage far away in the vast desert.....
Absorbed in his merriness he moves closer and closer to it....
And gradually it dawns upon him .....the mirage is fading away...its dying.......and when he reaches he finds it dead.....
Reality is an illusion..illusion a reality.....and the wanderer's world lies somewhere between them...
Perhaps life itself must be an illusion.....nad the times v lived on these illusions were the only times v actually lived..
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