The Only Real Illusion (a collaborative poem)
An Infinite Dance Between A Stranger and His Celestial Echo
This collaboration between Echoes unmade and The Stranger is truly special. It wasn’t planned at all. It began with a simple text. What followed was anything but simple — a conversation that quietly became a poem, the way stars quietly become constellations.
Out of space, beyond the stars—two creative forces meeting where distance dissolves and something unspoken begins. This is not just a collaboration, but a cosmic alignment in motion.
(Paintings by Echoes unmade)
Echoes Unmade - Regular
The Stranger - Italic
The Only Real Illusion
(An Infinite Dance Between A Stranger and His Celestial Echo)
“The universe whispered
long before we met.”
“In the dark,
echoes were heard
Gentle,
Even silence spoke louder.”
Constellations revealed
By your gaze, stranger
In awe, the cosmos gasped
Enchanted by your charm
Under your soul fire, unmade.
Born of stardust and
moonlit tides, we danced around galaxies —
Celestial beings untouched by time.
He picked up the stars illuminating the space,
‘Take my celestial gift.’
She blew out the sun’s candle,
‘Make your wish.’
The air turned heavy with unspoken magic,
casting a spell with nothing but intention. 🪄✨
Intention guided by instinct
- wild and raw:
Her gaze; his compass.
His fire; her meaning.
A language born from skin and flame,
a sacred chaos, undefined,
We’re two wild truths that intertwine.
The birth of existence manifested
when meaning was finding its way into us:
no fixed definition, no order but that declared by us.
Meaning kept unfolding—
endless, uncontained, alive.
And in the space
between what was and what could be,
Time became a gentle illusion.
In this timeless abyss,
The past embraced the future,
And hand in hand disappearing into Oblivion;
leaving us alone -
the only real illusion.
THE END
Thank you for walking these moonlit paths with me.
If these echoes of wonder, mystery, and stardust resonated within you, subscribe and return when the stars call again. 🌑✨
Writing is not what I do — it is what I chose over everything else. It is not a hobby, but rather a choice I make every day — to write instead, to stay here, to keep going. If these words have been worth your time, perhaps they are worth a quiet coffee too. Every contribution is not just support — it is permission for the next poem to exist.
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Omg this is literally a doppeeeee ❤🔥.
The birth of existence manifested
when meaning was finding its way into us:
no fixed definition, no order but that declared by us." I lovedss this oneee😭..
This was a gorgeous collaboration, how someone can create a masterpiece like this through normal conversation.... Beautifulll🥹🤍.
Oh my god this is absolutely Gorgeous wow wow you guys created somethin beautiful!!! Very well done!