The Lost Sphere

Sweet smell, the smell of earth

Fills my senses.

The fragrance refreshes the mind,

The warm weather teases;

Soothing, nudging me into a sense of security.

Whether the security lasts is another matter entirely.

It is the illusion that should hold true,

'Cause this world is made of illusions

And appearances must be kept up

No matter what the cost.

This so mars the beauty that shrouds our realm,

Preoccupied with the moment

When the bubble of illusion bursts.

Even when it does, nobody cares;

At least, we pretend not to.

'Cause we have our own facades to keep

Without having to worry about the world's.

I mourn for the lost innocence,

It's beauty still haunts me.

But I cannot believe it is lost to the world forever.

It is here, right here, just out of reach;

I can feel it.

I need to believe it.

For life without beauty and innocence

Is life incomplete.