Bones' Bones

Here is the lot! These who are dumbfounded by their dinners while the tropics tumble and timber.
By what grace is it that legacies are taught because someone guessed right? None! For it is no luck to have your name printed and reprinted till the machines rust in the ink of your words. If what you managed to leave before you've left is worth reliving to others than you might be able to think yourself eternal.
Night already. A snug fit for such an organism and oddly inspirational to waste. Then to wake refreshed, renewed in further decay. We just may be the lot.