The Final Epiphany

At the point of singularity
Where perceptions play games
And the words desert you
Unabashedly, at the worst moment
Doubt becomes insignificant
By its ubiquity

You still want to trust
The remains of the scattered logic
To help you build
The edifice back again
In all it's shining glory

How can you trust even memories
When the now seems questionable?
It's always better
To close all the shutters
And wait for the spell to end

But does it?
And how does one know
If it ever does end?
Miracles might be happening
But when senses give in
How do you know
They are real?