Poetry

There’s nothing that can stop the sands of time
some lives sublime will face death on a day
nothing can stay, without reason or rhyme
existence does begrime, by destiny swept away;

great men play and live, leave prints in the sand,
they are grand, but they lead others to disaster,
as plaster impressions, difficult to understand
very underhand few can their tricks master

and faster life passes; it’s not what it seems;
as in a dream events are ever changing,
everything does not turnout as we do deem,
self-esteem does not always happiness bring,

even achieving and pursuing, may bring a end
in a world bend, while for justice we wait
with hate, on words and acts till we are spent,
while descent nothing is or even straight
.
but in our gait, if we do trust in God,
even if ungodly we act in recreation
on every occasion to the final sod
it’s quite odd, He brings a new creation.

[Reference: “A Psalm of Life” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.]