The Elusive Search for Tranquility

What is tranquility?
I don’t know.
Whenever I think I’ve found it,
It vanishes right away.

I chase it through the silence,
In whispers of the night,
Yet every time I grasp a piece,
It slips beyond my sight.

A fleeting breath, a soft embrace,
A moment spent in dreams,
Though silent echoes linger still,
It fades like morning beams.