Leaving an impact,
On the onlooker,
Wonder not, reality what is !
Is an art, or isn't it?
Portrayal of self-image,
What not, one really is,
But, a reversal of projection,
Creation of an illusion,
Skillfully crafted manipulation,
Shrouding mysteries of self,
Or what the inner-being embodies,
Representing the flips,
That seem surreal,
Hence, enchanting & captivating,
And certainly,
When ace the artistry,
Of befooling,
Becomes a way of life,
Habit or reflexes,
That reflect much,
About one's intentions,
But, then sorted or type-casted,
In a way, where,
Exactness is impervious,
What triggers,
Such sadistic joys of mis-interpretation ?
Insecurity enveloped in negativity,
Or is it desire to be loved,
Then, strangely though,
What baffles me is,
Attains what one,
When a mask is revered,
But, not their self actual ?
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