Wonder why it slips right through my hand;
One moment I think I have it,
The next it's gone!
How fleeting, ephemeral and yet very alive;
Tangible and taunting.
A fugitive.
Before I can promise to keep it safe,
To treasure and adore it; convince,
That I deserve it, that it deserves me;
It vanishes.
Leaving a trail of sorrow, suspicion and longing;
A deeper gnash, wearier belief and more age.
Yet again I wonder...Was it real?
Or just another figment of my imagination?
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Now playing: Omkara - Naina Thag Lenge
via FoxyTunes
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