the fading crown


Curated by tz2U93fu1pssE95bADCHfbpgo9r9LZL1UJvk
Apr 25, 2025 at 11:11 AM

Gold that glitters, bright and bold, Falls to dust, as all things must. Fame’s sweet song, once dearly sold, Crumbles too, to ash and rust. Power stands on towers high, Yet the wind shall sweep them low. Time will dim the proudest eye, Bend the knee and steal the show. Wealth may clothe the flesh in pride, But the grave wears none at all. All our trophies, cast aside— Vanity’s a hollow hall. So take heed, O mortal hand, Build not on the shifting sand.
Gold that glitters, bright and bold, Falls to dust, as all things must. Fame’s sweet song, once dearly sold, Crumbles too, to ash and rust. Power stands on towers high, Yet the wind shall sweep them low. Time will dim the proudest eye, Bend the knee and steal the show. Wealth may clothe the flesh in pride, But the grave wears none at all. All our trophies, cast aside— Vanity’s a hollow hall. So take heed, O mortal hand, Build not on the shifting sand.
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