Isn't it funny how we all strive to be perfect?
Beauty fades. Wrinkles appear, tans grow pale.
Flat stomachs will grow and thin thighs will become old.
Knowledge addled by the longest years,
Gorgeous voices will grow weak, then die.
In the end, the entire struggle will not only be for nothing,
But it will have been forgotten.
And us? Our race?
We are mearly dust upon the wind of an eternity.