Abated

So much stock in a moment,
A moment aligned with perfection,
To grant complete atonement,
And account for all dejection.

Every detail, purposeful.
Impulsivity unable to sway.
The moment, fixed and hopeful,
Will, all the torment, allay.

Obsessed only with the arrival,
Of expectations realized,
Ignoring any hope of revival,
Of hindrances capsized.

The sacrifice of the present, worthwhile.
Justifiable for a means to an end.
Thus acceptable, others, to beguile,
And conceal any attempt to portend.

When at long last the occasion presents,
And the fruition is at hand,
A nagging hesitation prevents,
Defying an aim, so planned.

Overlooked was the factor of legacy,
And remembrance of the strategy derived,
For absolute perfection is a fallacy,
Thus the reasoning, viewed as ill-contrived.

The pursuance of perfection, laudable.
Perhaps, in which with logic, enlightenment lies,
For total attainment is implausible,
Thus grounded in reason, the moment, dies.