The Illusion

There is no logic to the subconscious

just as there is nothing tangible in a dream

no matter how real an illusion seems

an illusion is all it will ever be

I have chased dreams and miracles

like a child trying to catch a butterfly

they are too delicate to handle

and too quick to fly away

and my love has known precious moments

like fine sand sifting through my fingers

I have known the beauty of life

the sorrow too

in the end there is only time slipping away

and what I wish to do with what remains

every night I dance with my subconscious

on the inside, looking deeper inside of me

where I can fly, I can rise, and I can be the butterfly

I can be as light as a feather

I can be as free as the air I breathe

then I wake to see reality as a caged bird

and that beautiful illusion is gone

like a mirage in the desert sands

there remains nothing to quench my thirst

but truth; and that is harder still, to grasp

than a dream.

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