We are not just aiming creatures, but also changing creatures
Ever moving steadily offwards
Acting only when we want to be, or time compels us to be more
Some think, some feel, some find their way in the formidable dark
Some ponder and abhor the sight
But creatures we are nonetheless, in ever undoubted outline 
Stark is our contrast 
Night is our eyesight 
And burning is our ambition bright

The Changing, Aiming, Ever

This baby is so full of life,
Playing the leisurely fife.

I am glad that now I have grown up,
Trust me when I say that of my existence there's no end.