Descended immortally, as those of lesser
Morals sit upon jaded thrones. Less are
Their  thoughts of those looking below.
Etched in sands time we decompose.  

We struggle upon sands ever ebbing
Downwards, our struggle is for that
Fleeting moment of breath, to catch
One more, too many moments cast.

Those thought above, never see how we
Live, our moments more precious than
Those times mentioned. We are sand but
We are many moment  in a finite lifetime.