As one year ends, another begins,
full of regeneration and Renaissance.
We fill our heads with dreams and goals.
Always striving to be better than before.
We will publish our books and sell hundreds.
Or maybe, thousands, no-one really knows;
why one writer succeeds while another doesn't.
We want to leave something of ourselves,
for posterity, to be remembered by many.
Who will read our bios centuries from now?
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, yet our soul lives on.
Free of our human strait-jacket, we will fly!
We will sparkle, we will be lighter than air.
We can whisper our words on the wind.
Let them be absorbed into earth's atmosphere.
Be reborn, birthed into another human brain - we live on!