Dashing madly across open fields,
following an arch of multicolored joy,
filled with hope, happiness, love;
Everything I cannot have.

Enduring cold, pouring rain,
icy, whispering winds,
stabbing rocks against poor soles;
Carrying on, following dreams.

Serenading ideas, tricks of mind,
gracefully leaping through death,
gently landing on weathered stone;
Arriving at the end of the line.

Mirages fade fast, no life, no scene,
nothing save a fleeting glimpse,
what could have been,
what was in mind;
Now just millions of miles in the ever-growing distance.