Cirrhotic mikado clouds do swirl,
the sun beats down as the smoke it curls,
if Xanadu is near, I have been fooled,
as my hope continues to cool.

Lost in the evening looking over wrath,
the earth continues its chosen path,
as do we toward destruction,
brought about by rampant construction.

DNA mixed and made the billions,
but so did the dino-reptilians,
we think we are masters of our time,
but we simply cling like the frosted rime.

As seasons change we melt away,
it is not our fault, it is just the way,
as it never stops and ever expands,
time and the universe random plan.