A Hundred Different Ways 

In a million years, a thousand
Days, or ninety seconds from now,
The sky will fall a hundred different
Ways, and Beauty might find its rest
In the fifth corner of a secret grave. 

All the kingdoms that use the earth,
All the empires we built up by
Hand, all our treasures will pale
In the shadow of ruin, and all our
Wealth will slip beneath us on the
Gusts of wind across the dunes of man.

the_novacula