There, today, they tower high,
And tomorrow, the marvels end.
Jolted of the breezes passing by,
But their resilience, they pretend.
From sands they start and end their way,
Lingering for gusts to take them away.
Every instance, when I’ll leave the ground,
And proceed to rule on the thrones prevailed,
It has taken vows to plunge me down,
Dropping me back to the paths trailed.
They arrive; they leave, crafted with frailness,
Such, I say, are the dunes of success