O shifting vision, beacon of my soul,
What promises you've made, and made, and made!
I’ve fumbled dumbly towards your flickering goal,
But now I’m sure:  my steps have been betrayed.

You’ve shimmered warmly, like a distant home
Aglow with dancing lampshine in the night—
A flame inviting travelers to roam
Off track to seek out succor in your light.

But like lost tramps, I’ve scrambled over snag
And swampland, tacking towards you—aching feet
Stumbling in and out of fog and quag . . . 
Then sunk in muck, my desperate doom complete.

Behold, at last, all hopes this hour are lost:
I’ve chased your wisp—your love—at fateful cost!