Ecclesiastes 12:7

The flame is passed,
but it leaves with a burn.
The body is ready,
but the soul still churns.

Are they possibly ready?
Are they even able?
Will I leave a legacy?
Or merely a fable?

I gave a life,
I'd give it twice.
but those that follow
can't know the price.

I'll be free from the chain
the burden is gone.
Yet of the spot with the wear,
I've grown quite fond.

I look in the mirror,
and the champion looks back.
but it can sometimes feel,
like I'm really the crack.

I won, I achieved,
I played with the best.
but I'm doomed a death,
the same as the rest.

What will they say,
when they hear my name?
Will I be showered with glory,
or left with no fame?

What of my work,
that made me tired and weak.
Is the future still bright,
or is it gray, dull and bleak?

If I raised an empire,
one to stand time,
Would it be burned and salted
in life's final crime?

It's easy to love
the soul with a flame.
It's easy to know
the men of the game.

Will it be worth the work,
the sweat and the tears?
If it really can't make it,
can't face the years?

I'm passing the torch,
but I can't let it go.
The body says yes,
but the soul fills with woe.

The past is my power,
but I fear for what's next.
In the frailty of time,
I am saddened and vexed.

As I pass the flame,
I feel my hand shake.
On my firmest foundation
I finally quake.

All strength is weak
in the eyes of god
the grandest of works
all returns to sod.

But his eyes shine with hope,
like mine did long ago.
and he takes the torch
and my spirit in tow.