some squealing infant
one day finds immortality.
gods of this earth,
their legacy, in print
or in deeds that resound
in the annals of minds
lives forever.
another child gives
to the world
his name on a slab of stone
from birth till mother
nature sees fit.
between heaven and unforgiving
footprints, some lives,
like the lights of fireflies,
burn.
if it were mine to decree,
before the clock hand
strikes the Three,
i'd rather fade into the afterglow
of firefly sex
than burn alone,
Saint of the Flies.
Casper Fields
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/afterglow-7/
