Tragedy

Such a beautiful lie it is,

Some say, it's mysterious, I say "puerile" it is,

Nothing is determined, yet all is fixed,

We befool ourselves, yet we claim "not bewitched".

I read and learnt, 

I possess the courage-i possess the courage to mold a rock,

I fear, it's true; I fear it is true,

But, "not" allowed the walk!

I refuse to agree, perfection cease.

We chose "weak", and reject the breeze.

We ignore "a stand" is "difficult",

I am an anomaly, who abjects the cult.

I fail to see how we see the scene,

I am an anomaly, can't submit the dreams!

Doomed to misery-what I forsee, 

Is it worth or be one in the league?

I am wrong, am always so;

Guess missed the most important notes.

What to do, how to decipher? 

It's a beautiful lie, an enchanting snare. 

Who decides  it is wrong, to do something? 

A friend says, "what you see as 9, I see as six".

Then which light is red or blue or it's dark?

Who helps one through this labyrinth to cross.

Confused, I stare and wonder why it is,

How is this a beauty when only lie it is?