One more flame lit into the shaded light
Matches fuled from lives past,
One last flashing of peace,
Patterns slit from the universal knife;
mended through struggles written on our skin.
Above all, everything endures.
Even that from which some run,
Even secrets held within our pores.
Running one last lap through curious
Nights under unknown lamps, and these die slow.
The least of worries under reality,
A presence felt by even
Left in footsteps walked
By anonymous leaders,
And unknown teachers.