The horizon deceives it's chasers...
It wears bright colours each morning...
And as the day grows old
The makeup fades...
And clouds that create rainbows
All become puffs of vapour
The Camouflage of colours... nothing but a mirage.
Fools... drowned in that romance
Follow the horizon to nowhere...
Never disillusioned they keep saying,
"Clouds when touched... disappear..."
No comments:
Post a Comment