Dust

It’s within those who have to leave,
And those in whom we trust
And those who do not believe
That we are more than piles of dust,
When all is said and done
And the furore scuttles down
Just like the ocean-setting sun
Throwing shade on hallowed ground
Where the future once unfurled
As if already now the past
And the memories we hurled
Part sage, part iconoclast
Into the darkest reaches
Of the furthest blackest pall
Until the sands of time beseeches:
Flow back, back to the cosmic thrall.