A path unfolds its winding track,
With promises that quickly crack.
It's perfect cure, a shadowed guise,
And a hidden cost with subtly lies.
Silver linings are veiled with mist,
Give fleeting glimpse or fleeting kiss.
The obtrusion is a silent plea,
For deeper thought and clarity.
Solution's grace is a fragile thing,
Delicate dance, where obscurity clings.
An intricate design within subtle art,
Where obtrusion plays a crucial part.
Within flaws a lesson can be learned,
Many truths are beneath the surface.
Any perfect answer is rare and slight,
Don't reconcile with an obscured night.
by, Sheilah Say
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