Where Are They Now?

Who are they?

 

Where are they now?

 

Where are all those who centuries past,

swore, “Rome’d never fall,”

And then crumbled to dust.

 

Ashen pillars scattered to dust on warm winds.

 

Where they now?

 

They are here – 

here in our hearts and our homes;

our buildings and breaths,

our sweat and steam,

and all that seems new

to all those that past.

 

Who are they now?

But children of the wheat?

Who are they now

but the rocks ’neath our feet?

And the waves and the birds

that finally soar free.

 

Immitigable truth;

such sour reality

for all those

who now finally

soar so freely

not bound by grave

or hope of great thoughts,

and truthfully

are much better off.

 

Dust worries not.


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