The Maelstrom Inside a Ring of Desire

From the maelstrom inside the ring a rose of fire-pit We blindly stoke in order to create , make and turn Grains of sand we can then metamorph into such magnificence and finery like Toy marbles for children with kaleidoscopic eyes trapped inside to play with And on a even grander scale Windscreens aboard a shuttle rocket so astronauts can see and plot safe passages ahead To clouded frosted mystical crystal ball's so fortune teller Can relay to all of us what danger lies ahead in all ours future's When alas rather instead we choose to waste our time burying our heads in said sand Than making far better use of whatsover time we find ourselves having being lucky enough to be blessed with Like proving something as dank and dark as sand Can with a minimum amount of effort and a little help eventually become Something as transparent and far more beautiful As a crystal chalice exuding the colour of a rainbow