What a thousand
sands can't do,
A million might
try.
There's a center of
warmth deep in the dirt,
And there's
motherly love against the grains,
You mayn't find the
source hidden within,
You mayn't realise
when you miss the discourse.
Pressing through
the debris,
A haven comes to
life,
One that is warm,
one that is cold,
One that is
blissful in an inordinate amount.
What a million
sands can try,
But only the
warmest ones can dare to succeed.
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