And then there it was the rainbow with its promised pot of gold
A haze in the distant horizon afraid to instill the hope of expectation Enslaved as a muse from the time Wordsworth's heart leapt up with joy Now it is traumatised by its own obligation to deliver Time and time again it has compelled us to believe in illusions
Ethereal, transient, a portal to another dimension ever beckoning The Pied Piper of our dreams, the epitome of escapism The anaesthesia to our turmoils, the chloroform of our sensibilities Confused as chaos it doubts its own existence and yet has to lure
The unsuspecting souls in its realms of psychic voyages of self-discovery The venus fly-trap, the quicksand, the quagmire Attracting the moth to its undying flame, a love-hate relationship Then the grand finale, the Houdini act, all vows vanish
The bright dilated pupils become pin-pricks The aching smile becomes a forlorn frown Expectations evaporate, lonely longings linger A cherubic child wonders and exclaims at its novelty
We tilt our heads in direction pointed by the chubby fingers With a wry smile of despair, a slight shake of the head We lower a gaze only to catch a furtive glimpse of it once more Hope never dies!
What stayed with you?
A line that lingered, a feeling, a disagreement. Great comments are as valuable as the original piece.