All The Lot of Man

All the capers and frolics and glories
May in no time seemingly turn out
    to become ember
But the lasting of epoch-like legacies
Shall it as Truth itself, doesn’t last, remember?

All I asked for my soul is Truth
that lied somewhere as a chime,
All that truth that begot Fruit
With the swirl of time.
Copyright: Welkin Siskin