The life I have is just but one to me.
To live, to have, to carve and slave.
With not much ink, nor tools to use
But life’s small deeds that mean a lot.
So this my art and this my book
That time must etch into the fabric
Is not the grandest of them all
Yet is the best I have for all to give.
And if this night my journey ends,
If time tonight my ink dries up
And half a carving I have made
Realise that in this library of life
I’ve lived, I’ve loved and had my chance
To make a mark of mine unique
And ask the earth my work to keep.
Do know that in this art of mine
I’ve had, I’ve lost, have cried and smiled
Have learnt a lot in this and that
And made the best of all I could
Remember too my fault and failure
For these are too a nook of worth
For you to see and learn from too
And carve your own, a piece so grand
That makes the best of all it has
And stands so tall for all to see.
Remember too my highs my friend,
For in these fleeting moments of my book
I left my smiles all etched for you
To keep to sleep to last and store
My laughter and my joyful times
For endless ages in your thoughts
To have to keep and carry on
For this my journey ends tonight
And has been one I couldn’t walk
Without your faces to keep by
No book that I alone could write
Except that you were there with me
To carve the sculpture of my life.
And be the cast to my own script
For this my light tonight shines last