A disapointing gloom is cast upon me

A disapointing gloom is cast upon me

an image set too high . . . fell with a crash

that yearning, that desiring want, frustrated and dissatisfied

oh how I’ve been led off the track, given a wrong direction I guess

maybe my inclination was mistaken, captivated by a wishful lust

years I sought and found none, searching in the rubble of the masses

never to see what I thought I would see, it’s been so long without a sighting

Did it ever exist? . . . this phantom wisp

a wishful sprout in the garden of my mind

only to find a haze of illusion in the real life

that sweet intoxicating thought, a pleasant one indeed

it left me captivated, entranced with its possibilities

a high I felt, a floating in the breeze was I

but I fell with a crash, smashed to the earth

that illusion, that lie, that myth . . . from the Victorian years

deluded by chivalry and knights showing bravery

and their ladies . . . worthy of their respect and honor

but years have I looked and a lady I as yet to see

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