Transient

It's a nomad attempting to mark his home, Fitting himself where he doesn't belong. Millions have attempted to follow suit, Now, concealed deep, nourishing roots. Grasping the desire born after desire, Wanting more than what you require. In an attempt to consolidate fragility, Bound to vanish in a dimension of futility. May look like it's all yours, but drifting faster, The sun will still rise tomorrow and the day after.