A mirage or an illusion,
or just my imagination
of a light so distant
that exists for a moment
and quietly fades away.
Sometimes I feel I may
grab it, hold it, or clutch it,
extend my arm and touch it
to feel it's warmth soothing
and the joy it'd bring.
As hard as I try to reach,
"come to me", I beseech,
it mocks me and teases,
does what itself pleases
seeding a doubt within.
My optimism runs thin
and I wonder should I
push myself to try
to catch it and make it mine
it's glow and enchanting shine.
The light fades into dark
to reincarnate as a spark.
A world so surreal
a dream so real.