Time.

In the ways of the world as it must be
Time always goes on
Cities crumble, empires burn themselves out.
Yet time remains to pick-up the pieces.

Time erodes us all to dust.
So one day we may look back and see
That in foolish futility we hung on for so long.
To one day know our great cities crumble.

We become buried, and people are dug above us.
Our homes decay, our memories forgotten.
As time goes by, I wonder.
What will I leave behind after the tides of time have washed us away.

Reviews

[DeathlyPoet]

touching.