Oh the dreams that crowd our lifespan brief
Of a firefly day leading to an abrupt night’s end,
All labour to joy’s peak and valleys of grief
To encircle by experience what fates portend.

The brief spark that aches for lamp-like flame
Sustained, unflickering, fuelled by piety’s hands,
To alone illumine a sacred sanctum’s frame
For a silhouette of deity exceeding all norms.

Must the firefly of brittle wings not dream
To soar towards empyrean skies of gods,
And in a final absolute flutter hope to claim
A desperate grasphold of Thy solar hands?

What purport dost Thou hold firm in heaven
If my fair pleadings Thou admit not even?!