What Are You Made Of

What are you made of
If not for a harvest?
What are you made of
If not for the very best?
All things are different
Burned through and had,
You have to relent
What that might add.

What are we made of
If not from a wood?
What are we made of
If nothing turns good?
Dreams are away now
Are they forgotten?
Or shall we somehow
Manage through the rotten.

What am I made of
If not my own flesh?
What am I made of
If it's something less?
Give, take another hour
Reach to world's trough
- Open up treasure chest,
Start its engine's doff
- All is within the armrest.