Nothing like a little existential angst to fill your quill, hm?
Well, M, I'm going to do what I do sometimes and comment more on the subject matter of the poem than the technical aspect. If all there are are back-to-back illusions, how can you identify them as illusions? And if they're all that you have, then what about an "illusion" makes it a bad thing? It could very well be that we're all just a mind in a mix of senses that play a cruel joke of existence on us... but I say that all we can do is observe patterns in our existence and be faithful to those...
You know what makes you happy... you know what to do to incite some reaction in these illusions... that's why exist -- if you can't believe in anyone but yourself, then exist for yourself.
Did that make any sense at all? I'm trying, I swear...
Anyhow... thanks for sharing these thoughts with us. By writing a poem and giving it to the world, I think you've answered your own question, haven't you?
Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley