A summer day; pleasant morning at the beach
The tide was out for miles, the ocean serene
He built what only his imagination could reach
A grandiose castle! But sadly, the tide rolled in
He watched as wave after wave crashed ashore
And lamented as the sand castle he created
A moat, a drawbridge and lookout towers
Slowly wiped out, and mercilessly obliterated
Waves swept it all, soon no one could even tell
Except for a few pebbles and sea shells
Adorning the walls and towers of the citadel
He had built; forever lost in the ocean swells
Reflecting on his own life, he sat motionless
Pensive, perturbed that what he’s accomplished
Will be just as transient, rendered meaningless
His goals and dreams, as if left unfinished
He wondered silently if the acclaim will endure
Will friendships remain when his faculties fade?
Will anyone be around? oh, he can ne’er be sure
Cast aside will he be, abandoned in the shade?
Will there be sea shells, when the mind goes?
Perhaps a few pebbles, reminders of who he was
Will there be an epitaph, in poetry or prose?
Even if he hears it not, will there be applause?
Such is the price of the promised immortality
Dust he must be, at the end of his earthly stroll
Wealth, fame he leaves behind; more so vanity
And he takes nothing with him, except his soul!
© Vic A Evora