In the drudgery that sometimes defines our existence,
We cleave to the things that lift our skies.
Hold fast to the rays that illuminate our dark to semi-dark places.
We reach toward a kaleidoscope,
We turn it until the light we choose comes through.
One that lifts the drudgery that sometimes defines our existence.
Amare Poeta
Outside my mind 
The beauty of choice, too bad sometimes we are lifted only for a moment before we see the illusion
LikeLike