"Return to dust"

I've pondered on this thought for many moons,

And now I am ready to finally ask you,

Why do we measure things?,

When ultimately our fates are determined,

by what's left to do and what will be?,

Think about it,

We measure things in feets, inches, and meters.

But also feats of the body, legacy, and philosophy,

How can we measure anything without comparisons to something else?,

When there's nothing different between you and me.

Optical is visual, and physical is sensational,

But the mind is a variable lustful and lackadaisical.

What truly is our purpose if we have no direction?,

Anything done can be undone,

But if it only effects one (person) what will their story become?,

Just another page to turn or a bridge to burn,

Ashs to urns and no lesson was ever learned.

Left battered and hopeless from words unspoken,

Then they return to dust untrustworthy and broken.