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