Cypress of Melancholy

In forlorn cypress a man is laid

In repose , he looks into vacuum

Tears of commemoration rolling down the cheeks of mourners

In their hearts, imprecating the Grim Reaper or Shinigami

In their hearts, imprecating the belly of the Terra Firma

Where images of the King of Cosmos lie

These are the ozymandiases and the talakawas

Indeed, all humans, whether affluent and legendary, poor and wretched are temporal denizens in sojourns

Peregrinating an unknown land

An expedition that is placeless and oblivious to the ebb and flow of time

And after all the diligence, our end, so melancholy!

Indeed, life in this world is like a whitewashed grave,

Outwardly, it appears beautiful

But inwardly, full of gore and bones

Man, remember the spirit who shaped you into a figure while you are evincing strength and health

For we are not the owners of our own lives

Nor the architect of time.