Why do we sing?
Why do we laugh?
Why do we look for significance?
Why do we hope?
Why do we need life to mean something?

Why do we care?

A distant orange glow dances among the trees.
I found it against the backdrop of my own night;
Crackling and burning within the midst
Of all my hopes and dreams…
A consuming passion, reaching for the sky.

It burns, burns the days, months, and years
Of my short and silent life.
My past is but the embers of memory,
And when that memory flickers out,
The wind will carry the ashes of history
For its final journey into the shadows.

Will I stand strong?
Will I be true?
Will this passion give me light,
And hold back the thickening night?

What will I be when only embers remain?