Microbial life wandering the desert
We are but blips on their radar;
Ants upon their vast plot of untarnished landscapes
Merely trying to find the pastures of compassion.

We simper and beckon
And draw hope our way
But it is disobedient,
A wraith on shallow waters,
A demon in holy territory.

It pillages and finagles,
Spying on the hopeful,
Seated upon a golden couch
Next to naivety,
But it still comes when you call upon it.

It is in the heart of a newly liberated man.
In the mind of a steadfast child,
In the body of a dancer about to take flight,
And it is in the soul of the girl hidden away in the corner
Silently clenching her fist
In defiance of what the world gave to her
And in contemplation of dreams to come.