Monumentally momentary bubbles,
In the isolated deserts of time,
The sands time erupts,
In its due course,
As the sun paves its path as usual

We all try and carve a niche,
In the caves of immemorial memories
Only to be tsunamied
At the will of the soft breezes,
We hear in the far distance,
As we all are lowered
Or
Cast into incinerators modern,
To be remembered like autumn leaves,
As the garbage man swipes his arm
And
Flings each one of us, into oblivion
So be it with all things universal,
Albeit, without fail.
Amen