There but not any more.
Only a perception of thee,
Beyond our every control.
You are nobody’s wife,
Though thou promise thy love.
Late do we all realize,
That we’re just in queue.
Thou elusive bait,
You outwit and outlive us,
How you laugh at us,
When we think you’re had.
But then you leap out on us,
Leaving us with nothing but rush.
Futile baleful rush,
To clinch an eternal mist.
« return.