By Selia Qynn 1989
In this life, we all must learn.
Immortal souls must come to terms
With mortal death, we mortal ones,
And somehow know we still go on.
How desperate are the lives we lead?
What motivates us to succeed?
Stumbling, we do what we must,
Soldiers, warriors, all of us.
The cost of freedom is not free.
Oh Grace, I pray, deliver me.
Spare me this costly destiny;
So I can leave my legacy.
Each day is like a perfect sphere
When lived as if it were as dear
As precious pearls formed flawlessly,
And strung together endlessly.
Transient bodies, passing thoughts.
Wayfaring strangers, wandering, lost.
Forever searching, eternal ones,
Fallen angels, fly away home.