Who will carry my torch onwards when I am gone
And honour the marks I made in life and move them on?
To read the words I wrote with care and pondered over long
And tend the tiny flame I bore that faintly shone?
Who will carry a torch for the souls long forgotten
The millions of faded faces on myriads of paths trodden?
All the passions, loves and lessons that life had begotten
The wisdom of old worlds now fading fast from the modern?
There’s no conceit in wanting your stamp on life embossed
To hide your radiant light is to leave at a sad cost
For when inspiring stories vanish and sweet memories are lost
The golden threads to the past shall all turn to dust