Ode to immortality

So vulnerable to decline,
Made of clay- Man
Walks life as a passerby
Til Time clears his footprints-
And Dust wears his dust out.

Worm food’s underground;
Yet, his deeds remain crown
With subtility will carve in stone
Till their echoes in history echoes
Up to curse or to praise.

S.C.P.Biba