The Life We Leave Behind

"Cattle die, kinsmen die, but one thing that never dies is the deeds of dead men."

The bird flying overhead
In the great blue sky
Will one day lay down its wings
And finally cease to fly

The flower blowing in the wind
With its petals bright and round
Will one day turn brown, writher up
And crumble to the ground

All things must end in time
For time is never kind
Nothing lasts forever
Except the life we leave behind