We the living
though as lessees of time
yet count not ourselves
as unwanted remnants
in its disordered chronicle
we can still reach
for the forthcoming sublime-
that which is alive
is still stirred
by the ***** blood
of our unyielding heart-
our veins pulsate
we don't fall apart
resolute and undeterred
the now we regard
as but the start--

we'll set sail
into the light despite
the darkness
of the past night
the wrongs
of our past
we will set right--

humanity
is a tiny craft
swarmed
by the sea
cruel and rough
misfortunes assail
but our will
is steel-clad
we don't bow out
we are tough--

greatness we seek not
but our each endeavour
is to test, experience, discover
the lease
is never our leash
though none is a hero
we don't weep
deplore or implore

dying
is but a metaphor
we are larger
than what we are
we will not live
life by half.