Author Raymond Chandler left a poem
Only found after his death.  It read:
“There is a moment after death when the face is beautiful
When the soft, tired eyes are closed, and the pain is over.”

The Psalmist said, "For he well knows how we are formed,
Remembering that we are dust."
And, Job cried out, "Remember, please,
That you made me out of clay,
But now you make me return to dust."

Did not Isaiah give insight?
“Your dead will live.
My corpses will rise up.
Awake and shout joyfully,
You residents in the dust!
For your dew is as the dew of the morning,
And the earth will let those powerless in death come to life."

Indeed, there is a certain beauty in the release at death,
And, in the remaining echoes of who we were.
Yet, there is greater beauty in life.
Regenerate, oh, you dust!  Live, again!