Drifting

The world was born in ice and fire,
With it myself, both truth and liar.
The hopeless whorls of man's desire
And unaware, I drifted.

And eons passed, and then, and on
Repeats the eternal spring-time song
Still to this day; and I grew strong
And touched a star, and drifted.

The world- bright maiden in her prime
The winter grasses white with rime
I wished to still the tread of Time
So restless- on I drifted.

A hundred thousand human breaths
A thousand thousand human deaths
Through joy, defeat and love, distress
Stood I, alone, and drifting.

All walks of life, a writer, maid
A salesman eager in his trade
Inventions, new discoveries made
I watched in awe, still drifting.

Now down these hallowed paths I crawl
Now insecure, afraid to fall
Where once I was amazed, enthralled,
When I was young and drifted.

The world dies slow in smoke and dust,
Its childish treasures turn to rust.
Am loathe to see, and yet I must,
I witness all- the Drifter.

Yet while I weep, there is a light
That smoulders in the darkest night.
And pure, and fragile in my sight
The ray of hope is shifting.

Though we be few, we are still one,
We share a world; we share a home
Good will prevail; we're not alone.
Come, join me in my drifting.

One day I'll show you sands and skies,
One day we'll soar as eagles fly.
And when it is our time to die,
We'll land and end our drifting.