Dust

Your hubris is exceeded only
By your inordinate narcissism.
You erroneously believe in your
Immaculate perfection.
You address your "inferiors"
Condescendingly,
In the mistaken belief that they ARE
Your inferiors.

You swagger and
Strut about like a peacock 
In full display; 
Intoxicated by its own
Beauty,
Blind to its 
Marred,
Scaly feet.

Head held high,
Eyes filled with disdain,
Heart swollen with pride,
Soul blemished by conceit.

Oh, lowly creature!
Moulded you are from humble clay:
Forgotten have you in your
Haughty arrogance –
The inevitable truth of your
Return to the dust
From whence you came…

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