Clawing at Sand

Nature brings to pass caustic being,
To become a slave to assume genuine,
Leaves limbs trembling at ivory keying,
And leaves to ascribe delusive adrenaline.

Vitality profits from dispersed lackluster.
A parallel form of fissure bethought.
Fulfilled with naught, a ghostly cluster,
Reaching for residence never brought.

Microscopic beheld in retinas of empty devotion,
Reformed by the lens in true transgression.
Accounting in hopeless re-harmonizing backwards motion,
Grasps only at unperceivable question.

In desperate avidity I simply claw at sand,
Submerged with limbs weeping for land.