A million grains of sand,
All balanced on one another.
Whenever I move one, 
It disturbs all the others.
If I cannot be perfect,
Then all I am is but a lie.
But where is what is straight
In the world I'm to depict?
If my mind is to be my world,
Then let me become like it;
A flow of ever shifting dunes,
That let them float into the wind.
Let me give up to surrender,
And yet I cannot do it.
Pray defeat me soon,
That this war be over yet!
Let me fail this time,
Before I think I'm done,
And presume that I contain,

All there is within abstraction.

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