The Struggle between Desire and Deliverance

I assume that perfection is managed in a day and avoid the reality that complacency can pave the way to the infertility of dreams, the burning  and smoldering of desire, yet I choose to believe that I can fulfill my self-conscious needs by seeking approval from others, crying and chasing after lovers when the truth is I need to form another concept of my self that is not defined by solely material wealth or the stretch of a dollar or the clothes I wear because in it all, I am still the best, yet unformed, greedy and selfish, yet trying to front innocence and continuously comparing myself with the models that are told they look good starving themselves, the business women that can change the way products are seen and the housewives that can fulfill all a man's inner needs.
When a sculpture is still in the process of being pounded, rehashed, and reformed the inner roots of hate jealousy, greed and selfishness are all smoldered and eliminated from a  porcelain prize that is beheld as beautiful  by eyes even up in the sky.
All in all I am just dust formed from earth, barely magnificent to the soft and lovely flowers that bloom in spring, get scorched in summer and wilt in winter.
My wants and desires are futile in nature but God caters to them and I shun Him even though He created me. To be whole in perfection simply as I am stems from loving the creator and not even bothering to acknowledge fleshy haters that could not even attempt to lift their minuscule fingers and give divine life to the one that fed us life, breath and positive energy.
I  choose to fight wars with the enemy but real roots that define me are dug up and exposed and God knows that no one, however great they appear to be will achieve a life greater than His son who wears the earthly crown of thorns.
I seek perfection in a day, a perfection that will never be obtained and achieved yet I keep on struggling, pushing and fighting with God, telling Him what I need when He knows that my infantile desires will only make me bleed.
From dust I was created and to dust I will return, but sometimes I believe that I would rather rot bloated belly up in a pile of treasures that will rust and decay than to accept the pure gift of eternal life God chooses not to shove down my throat but instead put people in my life that want to get me right.
So I am lost a child within the heavenly circle, still wanting the praise of people, but when I finally get over my petty desires and retire to the grace of God, I will no longer seek a false sense of perfection but rather be perfection simply in the purity of my heart and spirit.