Days grow long, nights grow cold,

What will you remember when you’re old?

Statues marble — figures hard,

A spring of virtues over-tired.

Words burn dry, Paint grabs dust,

When will our metals turn to rust?

Write it clear — say it loud,

The meaning won’t get out.

Touch the earth, know the dirt,

Can you estimate its worth?

Forms of man — crumbled waste,

Only time knows its place.

Feet on floor, lips on tongue,

Who speaks in silent song?

Hands as ice — legs mid-run,

All are moving; all are numb.

I’m seeing hollow,

Seeing through,

Peace in pieces, Safely new,

Set your stage, play as you,

Tell me stories, before they’re true.