A Poet's Legacy

Some dreams once dreamed with fervor never will come true;
If you refrain from blaming me, I will not blame you.
There's nothing to be done that the doer didn't do--
He painted heaven orange, but the world sees only blue.

Obscurity is soft, the air is still and petal-sweet,
The hearth is cold, the fire's out, and yet there is a heat;
My metronome with every swing confirms my splintered beat;
Two paths may twist and twine and hug like vines but never meet.

Some writers cannot dream and yet their thoughts become quite real,
Some dreamers only sing, and through their lyrics listeners feel;
Both methods may break hearts or help a broken spirit heal,
May melt resolve like butter or turn sorrow into steel.

We make our mark upon the earth and after we are gone,
The earth erases every trace we etched with brain and brawn;
Existence is ephemeral, and be you king or pawn,
The game is over quickly and the pieces are withdrawn.