What Is It You Live For? Poem by Mark Heathcote

What is it you live for that isn't dead?
What is it, glows eternal as the sun?
And never reaches the end of its run.
What is it you toast with uplifting mead?
What is it that calls you and takes your lead?
When it's all come to pass, all said and done
amounts to something that's not much fun.
'Will life fight or fade like a wilting weed? '
Yet, on its perilous journey, never
-succumb to freeze or be bitten by frost;
sure, there are times a serpentine wind shrills,
pierces my heart - with a poison ever
-so lethal that I feel instantly lost;
observing sunsets on emerald hills.