The notion of longevity still pales at death;
an antigen for thinking it depends on mass
not primacy is bogus faith, parody in hope
that more pretence will make it stay away.
And yet one lives again through passing on
– in a sense beyond all mortal precedence;
imagine that before an end’s reprieve you’ll
be embodied here once more in sanctuary.
For me the thought you’d let me live again
won’t ease goodbyes – even then my peace
can’t weigh a thing beside those penchant
memories that you will gladly guarantee.
This presence is a permanence which death
cannot abide – and legends still survive with
energy inferred as personal strength you’ve
granted me to keep the lore alive.
©25 June 2013, I. D. Carswell