Natural procession.

How many men & beasts & beings

Are intertwined with everything?

For when we die and leave our dust

It blows away, or we think it must,

But where it blows no-one says,

When does it stop? After several days?

Never – haha! It turns and spins,

Dynasties imprinted in the wind,

Kings in leaves dropped underfoot,

Tsars, emperors, earthworm’s guts,

Artists, scientists, all manner of folk

Reminisce in the unborn yolk,

Cleopatra, queen of snakes

Crawls in the beds of fiery lakes,

So brace those warriors in thy bones

Iconoclast! Time will never take you home,

Cut loose the murmur, slay the groan

And stride atop the golden thrones

 

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