The Seat

When old age must have come,
And our youthful blood cooled.
When this strenght of youth is gone,
And barely carrying us our heels get bored.
When our glowing and lascivious skin is sagged,
And the beautiful are born.

We all shall sit,
On seats of personal achievements.
Seats carved with young sweats.

A throng will sit on the floor,
A thousand on stools
Then the few will sit on thrones.