Perfection

Exquisite, real, dreamlike and elusive.
Preposterous, yet coveted,
in a sense abusive
for it is unbearably wicked.

Obtained it is ineffable,
pure and simple
it is simply blissful,
yet so brittle.

As enduring as the seasons.
Instantaneously the experience degrades
when the ecstasy blackens
and the euphoria fades.

A concept like time.
Real or fake,
the question a climb,
the result a headache.

The only truth to the madness,
is both pure and simple.
Like perfection so boundless,
perfection is blissful.