Match-sticks

This life is a fleeting instance
Its glories of little consequence

Smoke dissipates quickly
Submitting to wind, meekly

As wisps of dying flame
Sparks flicker, with no aim

As memories in the mind, dancing
Like shadows on the wall, jumping

Even the one left behind,
Will soon be discarded like rind

What matters in this life's show
Are the trails we leave for others to follow

For after the lights depart and go
Only the luminescence of our actions glow

So be matchsticks for posterity
One strike ensuring continuity

Instead of useless vainglory
Paraded as achiever's story

Unknown may be more worthy
Than a fruitless known entity

And same matchstick without delay
Would raze a hundred bales of hay

Haidarwali 201512090643hrs

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