As if it were

As if an illusioned allusion came to pass, a distinct distant muse. Feeling as one, but lop-sided whilst the weight of the other deprecates. Descending to whom is home, I flee with intentions of integrity, yet hold back on self-pitty with lack of simplicity. Is it then we who fall on ourselves or those who hold our hand with a firm grip to one day let it go? Reason without reason is the worst kind of reasoning. So sad that my 2nd proposed sand castle has been washed away, unexpectedly, yet again. Because number 2 has come and passed, "as if it were," seems to be the one that lasts.