Constructed under water's highest tide,
encroaching waves breaking upon the land,
its clearly ****** existence must subside.
Is it absurd, this fortress built of sand?

The waters rise, now lapping at its base,
erosion wiping meaning from the beach.
For once a thing is lost, without a trace
is purpose gone? Forever out of reach?

One final wall is swallowed by the sea.
Its image shall soon vanish from the mind.
Yet even as the grains of sand break free
what effort gave, its value, stays behind.

The works of man must always someday fade.
So in the doing, purpose must be made.