There is a dust
It was formed and created by breath
It came to the world
Innocent infamy
Brought joy with more tears and pain

The dust grew in knowledge
Its eyes were opened
Good and evil
More evil

It loves and hates
It saves and kills
Heals and destroy

It liberates and conquer
Servant and tyrant
Its honest, a liar
Persecutor, a defender
It’s faithful, a cheater
It trust, a doubter
It is brave, a coward
It cries, it laughs

A taker, a giver
It is humble, it is arrogant
Merciful and vengeful

The dust grew weak
And weaker
Throughout its life he never realized
That it is but a dust
Until it is buried
Six feet under ground
To be trampled upon
By other dusts
Who doesn’t know
That they are but a dust

As the old saying goes
From dust you came from,
to dust you shall return.


Categories: Poems

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