Fragile Illusions

Fragile illusions, like a house built on the edge of a precipice
Which a quake could threaten its stability
Like a tenuous flame which lights a windy passage
The spark which lights the fire, which could instantly vanish
If not coaxed and fanned to expand and nourish

Fragile illusions, flamed by the stereotype of that which
Is deemed ideal. Yet, in reality one get by on hope or crutches
Perhaps even the most stoic man faces demons in the night
Perhaps the best defense is to become numb. Even to the point of
Shattering illusions, as beautiful as hand cut crystal

Mind over matter I’ve heard
Makes sense if you want to persevere
Illusions can be beautiful and treacherous to your well being
Yet one must strike a balance not to lose a vital energy
That seeps and leaks like sweat beads on your brow

That fragile and precious elixir is the joy of being
It’s contained in surplus doses by babes and children
On gentle men and women whom are content
There in lies the delicate balance. Mastering the mind
To do your bidding; harbor only the illusions which glitter



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