For the objects pursued
First appearing close at hand
Flee more quickly than
you can pursue them
And when you believe that
You have reached them
Only transmute themselves
In the distance ahead

For every calculated step
Is an endless shuffling
Back and forth, going nowhere

For these objects that
Pull you asunder with
Promises of beauty and wonder
That you, weary traveller,
Gladly accept, in bargain
Forgoing possibilities
Richer and vaster
Because you doubtfully
And half-heartedly pursue

For it is well known that
Those who succeed, expect success
And those who fail, fear failure
The habitually fearful
Have moments of hope
The habitually hopeful
Have moments of fear