Intoxicating shadows of the mind
form the reason for humanity's existence,
embellishing reality with dreams -
all those immortal fantasies continually
being resurrected throughout time.
The inevitable storm of emotion tears the root
of reason from shallow minds, entangling the soul
with resounding fury, decimating mortal hearts.
And the false gods that they invent,
those ghostly beings circumvent
their sole reason for being, as they fall
on their knees in the aftermath of the storm.
Who will save them from themselves
and the shadow gods of their minds?
Adding your comment:
This odd piece seemed strange to me as I was writing it, and it is a wonder anyone else can understand what it is I'm trying to say. The hard part was in trying to keep the loooong sentences (lines) as short as possible, while forcing the poem within the 14 lines I was trying for. I suppose my style gravitates toward the sonnet, it's what I'm most comfortable with. I also struggled with the title. At any rate, thank you again for taking the time to comment on my poem, I appreciate your kind words and the applause, as well. I will be over to read your latest work ASAP... Until then, take care!!!! 
