Glory of the Dead

Nothing can taint the glory of the dead,
their diamond faces immune to time's harsh temperament.
Still and silent they remain, undisturbed by the wars of ages
long passed and forgotten.
The glory of the dead lives on, while the bodies
burn and blacken; ashes scattered to the wind.
The bones turn ot dust and the coffins to splinters,
but the glory will always remain.
A king and a thief lay next to one another;
but the worms don't seem to care.
Their tattered clothes and broken bones
are just another meal.
The tombstones crack and crumble
as they sink and fall apart;
the loved ones stop visiting
as everyone forgets.
But the glory of the dead continues on,
after the bodies no longer remain.