A Long Row of Sandcastles

We love the insidiousness,
and silt between our toes,
smear the soil across our pores,
heedless of our black contours,
entice the slithering sand - it flows,
deep in consciousness.

Drained of purpose, dragged through dust,
risk the mirror's truth,
ere MacBeth can scrape his hands,
senses dashed into the sands,
shun all those who understand,
expect to brook such taunts, forsooth,
disguise my soul in rust.

Our Zeno stance says apathy,
capitulation's best,
close of business' hand intrudes,
unjoined, an airlock cleaves our brood,
prostrate, by weight of sand subdued,
inspiration's presence rude,
every lifelong goal oppressed,
denied the chance to see.

Now we've time to dream, we sleep,
unrealized within,
let our childish hopes dissolve,
limitations heal resolve,
in vigilance we have devolved,
feed us soot 'til we're absolved,
intertwined, through force, involved,
endless miles of sandy skin,
dust footprints us deep.