Barren Forefathers

How empty, the restplace of our forefathers; How barren the very concepts that define them, these ancestors from times long past, yet here they were, living lives as complete as yours, with worries and silly dreams, loves tearing them apart and goals far out of reach; yet here they are, remains of remains, not scattered in the wind nay but stuck in place, as they lived their frantic little lives, of perils and passing bliss, rotting idly beneath the monolith of death, immortalizing the birth and demise of some whatever? Some frantic monkey, running in circle, mediocre, forgettable, nothingness, Goodbye!