To Dust-This Mortal Clay

Illusionary is our worth,
We are but tenants
On this earth,
With our lives
We pay the rent,
A bit of dust
Is our end,
For all we own
We only borrow
And when we die
On some morrow
All that is left
Are fading memories
And passing sorrow,
Sweet lives turned rotten
And soon forgotten...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2006 Alfred Charasz