Consolation- A poem

Don’t cry!
Trash human endeavor,
Shadows chased 

Wikimedia Commons by Palagiri

But sever.

Own self He devours,
Dying again and again
In cosmic bargain.

The purpose dissolves,
What remains,
Will it be?
And what does not remain, 
Will it not be ?

The tempest 
Of spring season, 
Is lasting elasticity, 
the sole reason?

What provoketh thee,
Or thy pursuits?

I unto all,
A passeth show.
All unto me,
The palaver of the flow.

Whatever is born,
Is it shorn?

Is the crumbling credibility,
A vital plumage
Of the the reality?