mesmerized by dawn, instinct paints a passage
folley reveals a facet, entranced by ego - or is it passion?
like a fly to the light, grab your tools and say the line
tempted by the next dim spark, are we drifted or are we guided?
if perhaps you catch a draft, your heights will pierce the clouds
yet all it takes is an emissive speck: beckoning descent
it’s often said with one’s misstep, a venture into paths unknown
a guiding light may clear the haze, nurturing our inner glow
[kiem]