To Cinders Turned Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes,
Lush rush, ambition flush: soon crash is
finality limb, wing, plant, fin
fall subject to before waste bin
trashes mortal mirage dashes,
traceless sinks brave, knave, saint, sin.

Boom to bust, to tomb from Ashes
is call all know as forty lashes
or laurel leaves dissolve. None win
diced second innings. Kith and kin
to Lethe leave what time's rime smashes
on rock of ages' spaced out spin.

From flash in pan to also-ran is
die cast. First last, pride finds fate slashes
high expectations with win-win
to cinders turned as[h] Mickey Finn
unlooked for's slipped when bad blood splashes
haemoglobin on next of kin.