Misguided Hands (Or Simply Put, Correct)

Being born unto this place,
I receive but misery.
Being one without a face,
I am not remembered.

Always lonely on this earth,
Maybe there is haven.
Always armed about my girth,
Maybe I will find it.

Slowly lumbering through,
I gaze at the naked ground.
Slowly listening, too,
In hope to hear something.

Through cedar and pine,
I pray to build my fort.
Through grass so fine,
I hope to dig a hole.

Stumbling on clifftops,
I find no caves.
Stumbling through the crops,
I find no satisfaction.

Blinking at the blinding sun,
I still remain so blind.
Blinking under a burdening ton
I find myself alone.

Limping into the solemn town,
Here there is no solace.
Limping from the softest down,
Nothing will give me comfort.

Steering my life along the bay,
Nothing has gone right.
Steering my legs through the day,
Finally, something.

Finding a crab, I step inside,
The shell it keeps me warm.
Finding out it's quite the ride,
I eagerly jump in.

Here, there is peace and life,
Nothing holds me back.
Here there is neither hate nor strife,
But love I've never seen before.

So here I'll remain, to the end of ages,
Happy as I'd ever prayed.
So with no glance to Earth's stages,
I beckon all to follow.