By Dust Consumed

CE Fleming

The only thing in life that is certain is death.

Death is inevitable, a fate we cannot ever evade.

While we wish, sometimes, to be immortal,

And see what history has to unfold, before it ends,

And by dust it is consumed.

What would it be like to live forever?

Sad, to watch all loved ones die, waste tears as you cry.

Wondrous, by seeing the future you would have had to leave,

And stunning all at once, as you realize you really can't die,

Or ever by dust be consumed.

Immortality can always have its prices to pay,

Often leaving the victim in constant pain of the heart,

Leaving him rambling madly about life that has once left,

Never again to return, for it has followed the balance,

And by dust it is consumed.

The certainty of life is what makes our lives seem final,

We, as humans, can never evade that, and we strive so,

For what we can accomplish in this life, while useless,

May yield us greater rewards than immortality.

And our lives will by dust be consumed.

Is death truly that scary, or frightening?

Or is it that we do not want to be forgotten?

In servitude to life do we forsake our own pleasure?

Often we walk this plane and ponder these thoughts,

Never forgetting that our lives, by dust will be consumed.