Oh! To be a fly!

Oh! To be a fly. Sitting on the bouquet of flowers next to the armrest of the couch, while my favourite hero writes. To be able to delve into his thoughts. To be able to understand why he is what he is.
Oh! to be a fly. To watch how he does it every moment of his life. Being so gentle, so caring and so loving. To watch that twinkle in his eye. To read his mind while he sips his mug of tea.

Is it a difficult task, I think to myself.
Aren't we all similar to him in many ways. So how or what is it, that makes him tick.? What is it that makes him more wanted by others? I'd like to know more.
But do I really want to know. Or am I content with just knowing him for what he portrays. What he reveals. What he writes.
It's a maze in there. Inside my thoughts. It's confusing. It's overwhelming. But am I ready to let go of my picture of him?
I think I need some more time..some more moments cherishing what I have had in my dreams with him.
I let him be. As he writes. As he thinks. As he smiles.
I fly away. Back to my world, to my existence, to my happy befuddling rumination.

In response to the word prompt of the day Fly over at Marathon Bloggers 

Hopes

Where is that horizon?
The one that was to be
The rosy tint it gained
Has suddenly ceased to be.

Is there hope?
The light at the end of the tunnel
Seemed to glow brighter
And then it was darkness

The futility of it all
The sighs and cries
The hands that held
Waved a goodbye after all