We are rocks,

the strongest soil.

When the rain comes,

the rocks turn into soil, and

when the rain stops,

the soil turns to dust.

We are insignificant dust,

and will eventually be scattered in the wind,

died in thunder,

lost in the sea of fog, and

fell into the fire.

Maybe we will die one day,

without a trace,

without leaving a sound.

But who can deny that

the world that has been changed by dust

will not be different at all.