Evanescent

I was thinking about the future.

Evanescent

When minds grow slow and bodies sicker
the sum of all our sins will flicker
like darkened lids ‘cross sight and sought
what worth were days we lived- wars we fought?

When flame is gone and hearts are cold
and all the passion lost with old
once eager eyes are tired of their visions
will we still stand by our decisions?

What mark make we on future land?
Our deeds undone, our bodies sand,
will children learn of lives we lead,
their fields all fertile with our dead?

Does dying sun give secret sire
each night to nubile surrogate fire
to bring by progress conquest over night
and bathe the earth in new found light?

Or is morning born by tired eye
wandering dully through the sky
that hides its head at night in shame
to know with day he’ll bring no change.

To know, with dusk, he’ll die again.