The Enigmatic Dance of Life

In realms where glamour feigns to be, Where life's a stage of fantasy, The souls who've lived and loved still seek, To grasp the truth amidst the sleek.

The ones who've felt the touch of life, Through sorrow, joy, and bouts of strife, Perceive the veil that masks the play, Of those who dance in grand display.

For those who thrive on gilded dreams, With ease attract what glistens, gleams, While others, searching still, remain, In mist of doubt, a haze of pain.

Must one be egocentric, cold, To grasp the gifts the world can hold? Or stand aloof, a hermit's plight, To keep one's soul in tranquil light?

Is it to shun the throng, protect, One's fragile heart from scars, neglect? And does that choice breed whispers dire, Of scorn and judgment from the choir?

To be a player in the game, Or flee the tumult, free from blame, A question echoes through the night, As tortured souls search for the light.

Experience doth carve the lens, Through which we view our trials, our fences, The truth is veiled in shades of gray, And only lived, in life's broadway.

A dance of fate, a roll of dice, Life's choices beckon, hard and nice, To live, to love, to learn, to grow, As in the stream of life we row.