Does it exist? Is it really there? Or, is it all a metaphysical haze?

Life disproves it time and again. Yet, why do we live in its hope?

Every heart ache proves otherwise. Yet, why does it spring again anew?

Perhaps, some things are... I suppose the question is figuring out which?

Or perhaps, it is the bliss of ignorant yearning?

Do we live for just the chance of its ideal?

Does it matter, after all, that it isn't?

Where do we go from here?

I don't know.... do you?