You came alone, so will you leave,
All you'll have is moments that you preciously weaved.
Your hands will be empty,
All they'll carry are lines on them, due to hard work that exists like an entity.
Your head will be hollowed too,
All it will have are memories that were made special by you.
So you know nothing's mortal and everything will have its end,
Still our egos and pride are too rigid to be bent.....