AlAnoud Writes

The soul may weep for passing days,
Yet knows this world is but a phase;
True peace is found when one lets go,
And leaves behind what cannot stay.

No home awaits when life is done,
Except the one our deeds have spun;
If built with good, it shines above,
If built with wrong, its light is none.

Where are the kings of wealth and might,
Who ruled the earth with pride and right?
Death raised its cup before their eyes,
And turned their glory into night.

Their vaults were filled with gems and gold,
Their banners flew, their tales were told;
Yet all they owned passed to new hands,
While they grew silent, still, and cold.

We walk among the dust of years,
Of broken hopes and vanished spheres;
The world remains, but all who claimed
Its lasting love have disappeared.

So hold not tightly what must fade,
Nor trust the shadow wealth has made;
For every crown returns to dust,
And every debt of life is paid.

Seek then a treasure time can’t steal,
A truth no passing age can seal;
For what endures when all else ends
Is not what shines, but what is real.