The stone foundation of my mind is built
On earth composed of all my firsts and lasts.
The statue of my consciousness is gilt
With many different voices from my past.
This likeness of myself is made from gold,
And shines when I should smile or laugh aloud.
A cloth sewn from the memories that I hold,
Will one day unfurl to make my shroud.
Moss grows on the side confined by shade,
Dripping with the things I have forgot.
In years to come, the gold will dull and fade,
And sink into an ocean of my thoughts.
My fate: an artifact in foreign minds.
Stone turns to dust along with humankind.