We live at life's bequest,
permitted our successes and failures
and balanced in the end.
Our denominations are droplets,
that fade with time upon the glass
forever through which we look.
Wars and politics are but games,
self important with little more than a thought
that fades into nothing.
Weapons and Religions dance beyond our sight,
elusive as a willow-the-wisp
whose light is gone so swift.
Mortals and Eternals exist,
only at life's request
to fulfil their purpose.
As we fall at death's very gate,
clinging to our final breaths
and balanced in the end.