Like ants we scurry around and think we truly matter. We build sand castles and believe we can achieve immortality. In truth like children on a seashore we labor in vain. The waves from the ocean of time sweep away what we have built. No matter our perception, our existence in this world is finite. What we leave behind little but memories of our ghost. In the end we complete our short journey, while eons pass the world turns and the cosmos changes, and yet we exist for only a second and wonder that we even matter at the end of it all.