This timeless idea
The golden pursuit
To be without flaw
An impeccable fruit

To strive for perfection
Is to live in the dark
Denying the truth
Of Nature's spark

For all of this earth
Embraced by the sun
Require a touch
Of darkness's pun

Life is growth
Growth is pure
And thus perfection
Will never endure

A wound on my hand
An open part
Pulsating pain
Like a broken heart

A bleeding gate
By my own nail
Cutting down deep
Leaving a trail

Thus is the truth
To understand
The patterns of life
and the wound of a hand

For time it requires
With healing grace
To finally reach
Another's embrace