Dust

A Poem

Be not proud, my dear man

Of what you are

Or for what you possess

As everything is an illusion

Nothing is real

Nothing is certain

The creator created you

From nothing but dust

A day will surely come

When you’ll be nothing

More than Ashes and Dust

The winds of time will wipe

Out even the traces of

These Ashes and Dust.

By:- G.S.Vasukumar