Words are like leaves,
In time, would be blown away by
Gusts of the four winds.
At times some are kept in one’s mind,
Even etched in one’s heart.
Regardless, not all stand the test of time,
So soon it would all be lost and forgotten,
Like all of us mortals,
Those who have known greatness
And the rest-not-so,
Little it does matter at the end,
Alas nothing really last!