The Beauty and the Grave

There rests a hardworking, every day, normal man. On the left is a young person, barely old enough to be called an adult. Over there is a mother and father. Just around the corner is a whole family. On the right is an elderly man. There rests a young maiden. Who will tell me their story? Who will give me the wisdom gained from their life? Will you ma'am? Will you tell me your story, so that I may learn and grow? ~~~Silence~~~ There is, there is, there are so many, yet no answer. That is their lesson. The lesson of the Beauty, the beautiful maiden resting, is that once it is over and gone, that is all life on this earth amounted to without someone to pass it down to, to pass it on to, to further wisdom, life, and influence. Each breath we breathe, each step we take without purpose and without being bold in proclamation to others is meaningless. Silent. Statues, sculptures, stones and carvings may remain in recognition of a life for all to see, but their stories are either buried and hidden in the grave or alive and thriving in the ones they told and left behind on earth.