A Forethought

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What’s it like at the end of the rainbow?
Is there light when day is done?
Will we witness the birth of the falling snow,
And see where each raindrop has begun?
 
And what is the fate of passion?
Will it evaporate with the dew?
Or rather burst forth from the limitations
Put on it by me and you?
 
Every word fades like a vapor,
And every song, once sang, is gone.
So shall we save eternity for later?
For in the grand scope, nothing lasts long.
 
To the beast I sell my soul.
Not for pieces of silver, I only want gold.





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