Magic Poem by Josef Erlebach

What seems so real,
Never the same lies.
You can almost feel,
The joy of it, then it dies.

Always seeing the past,
As a shadow in the sunny haze.
For a second the illusion lasts,
Lost in a mindly daze.

Started with a jest,
Then an embracing love.
Now it seems the best,
Out of nowhere, a dove.

It’s not as much fun, now,
The trick is found.
But in your heart, some how,
The illusion can still be around.