Ephemeral

This outer form you call beauty
is of this transient, ephemeral.
This body, this face
is made of dust.
It will all blow away,
each and every particle,
swirling into the wind
like radiant leaves
departing in autumn.

Youth will fade someday,
along with the rest
of these material forms;
even the earth
is just a marble
made of sand.

Know this soul, I pray,
as destiny’s breeze
calls me to fanaa;
remember this smile,
as pieces of me scatter
into floating, evanescent stardust.

I, like you, will slowly vanish
until I am nothing
but a soul risen to promised Elysium.

There, I will find reunion
with You, my hidden Lover.