When morning mist on blacktop creeps
and midnight rain's returned to sleep,
as puddles form amidst the miles,
deceiving the forlorn passersby.

Glorious mirage of sweet relief
offers respite for weary feet,
or souls and hearts
in desperate need
of sanctity found, however brief.

Pools appear as dream fulfilled,
not cognizant of moment's thrill,
a single lunge into uncertain fate,
beneath a wheel where Reaper waits.

Courageous surrender into the deep,
eyes open too late into the leap,
a shallow pond
then tire screech
an oasis of death is what has been reaped.