Baskadia

Our lives like fading sparklers burn,

A dazzling flame against the night.

When at last each fiery tendril turns

To ashes drifting out of sight.

The dazzle goes, but still we yearn

For lights to dance as they once did.

Though all we see now are the embers

Of joy and life that still grow cold.

A fleeting beauty leaves the world,

As ash and dust our substance prove.

Yet still we hope some firefly

May rise again from pyre to love.

The dead are scattered bits of shining,

Their lives some cosmic show.

Although the lights depart this densy region,

Still we believe the fire flow.

A blaze too brief, too hot to capture,

Each life burns fast then fades away.

But see the lasting golden embers,

That still hold spark and play.

Such are we, lives lit then taken,

Our souls like stars cast adrift.

Each burns too fast but its desire remains,

To shine, and shine, and shine.