Mortality be our doom.
If life does end, and we
lie as carcasses
consumed by the scavengers
Let not the vultures eat
my memory of you.
Anger be our folly.
If strife does destroy this bond,
and my bitterness sour
the pure state of our unity
Let not my hatred taint
my memory of you.
Intellect be my sword, double-edged.
If my mind is lost in the wilderness of reality
and temperance scattered in the storms of mere perception
Let not my madness undo
my memory of you.
Passion be your game, perhaps.
If all the stakes are played to loss,
every dealing hand seeing no hope of redemption -
a futile gamble in volatile circumstances
Let not the heartbreak shatter
my memory of you.
Change is our constant.
Even as I turn blind to the joys and tragedies
that the future may present
I pray for a singular vision of truth.
That in your deepest core
these mere words lie in your memory of me.
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