Ashes To Dust

You see yourself an ancient tree, to earth you must return A voice that screamed of newborn things whispers now of worms You looked toward the acorn once and there you lay your hope Now through a mist of falling leaves you look back on the oak You see yourself a tapestry frayed beyond the mend The fabric worn and tattered, the story told there spent An arras on a great wall once, so little could you hide Merely now a threadbare scrap meshed with foolish pride You see yourself a parchment crumbling on a shelf Penned within, the fated end you’ve written for yourself Leaves askew and sallow, wise words turned to wry Inked regrets on final pages spilled and left to dry Steel hearts become ruins and ruins turn to rust Hearth fire burns to ashes and ashes turn to dust