We, the Ever-Dying

We, the ever-dying,
singing our songs of victory,
waiting to go down with the sun for the final fall,
our histories cast to the echoes of eternity.

You and I—
we swore to be strong;
hearts against the tide, masters of our time;
fighting for what we wanted, giving all we had.

The horizon has been our destination;
the sky, the roof of all our worlds.
"Never" to Supplication, "Death" to Dishonour:
our words, our wars—true to the point of pain.

When we die, we shall die fully;
expended, extended;
our tombs, mere ashes, strewn from sea
to mountain and from heaven to hell.

We, the ever-dying,
the marks of our lives are judged by us alone.
So whatever the day, whatever the deed,
we make it real until the very end.

Ex Tempore XLII
M.M. — 03-Mar-2013