Into Dust

The briny tears have dried The sounding knells are stilled The grieving crowd, dispersed The parting pain, allayed Benumbed lie the dead Beneath the marble vaults Bereft of power and prowess Benighted and beaten. The sun shall never cast its glorious rays The stars shall never their brilliance shed The breeze never shall bring tidings new The showers shall no more drench them through A thoughtful friend sometimes seen around A fervent prayer at times chanted aloud A plaited wreath, rarely laid over A trite rite, randomly carried out There’s none left to mourn or weep Nor anyone to sing, sigh or sob Leaving the dead to rot in the closure of graves To life’s alluring charms, the dear depart. Cold as clay the dead lie so still To be feasted on by maggots and the worms Life with all its glory – defunct Its fever and fret too – extinct. How in vain we run after wealth The power and position we deem so great Shall come to naught within Time’s gloomy vault Yet we run and yet we straggle behind. In vain ends our travail for might Inglorious is our quest after fame Transient turn the riches, we garner Short lived is their gleam and glitter. Oh Lord! Lead us not into illusory charms Deliver us of our avarice to hoard For all that is born and made ‘Must consign to death and come to dust.’ Placed Third March. 1. 2022 'G'. Give me a New Poem- Any Form Poetry Contest Subject- Death Sponsor- Constance La France