It is the way of life For even my beautiful wife Shall one day grow old So do not be so bold Nothing will stay as it was set All empires were crushed out like a cigaret So why do you think that you should last? Or that the glorious morn should hold fast? The flower of the field will fade And as Frost once said βNothing gold can stayβ All will eventually fade away.
What sad reminder that we are feeble and out of control.