It is the way of life
For even my beautiful wife
Shall one day grow old
So do not be so bold
Nothing will stay as it was set
All empires were crushed out like a cigaret
So why do you think that you should last?
Or that the glorious morn should hold fast?
The flower of the field will fade
And as Frost once said
“Nothing gold can stay”
All will eventually fade away.
What sad reminder that we are feeble and out of control.
