The Descent

Tiredness degrades quality.

The miniature red crab scurried along
With a pattern in its step and a goal on its mind
Its unproportional legs clambering over the uneven grains of sand
Pincers flailing madly in the air
Each overturned grain a step closer
The angry pincers grasp at nothing
The eyes dart back and forth
No end in sight
No end in mind