Your maxims are proverbs of ashes.
Not the cleansing of bull’s ashes,
But the trampling of wisdom
Under unholy feet.
Sackcloth and ashes
Are your reward;
You earned it,
This cruel
Dust.

Hope is
Ashes and dust.
Dust you are and to dust
You will return, so be kind to
Ashes.

Woe to him who despises ashes;
Roses need potassium chloride to bloom.

If dust’s maker made himself dust,
Then dust in glory is noble and just.
Surely resurrection and life
Presuppose death and strife.