"Dum Vivis Ama"
a poem by jeff campagna
Man hath achieved a great many things,
Empires fallen he hath built for kings.
He hath trod the earth and sail'd it's skies,
And his every mistake achieves reprise.
Prithee, Man hath not an angel’s wings,
Nay, he is tied down with material things.
He shalt wax and wane 'till the day he dies,
About his achievements, truths and lies.
Man hath scaled to a great many heights,
Mountains of iron and oceans of lights.
Methinks he got lost upon his quest,
‘Ere he would have found some godly rest.
Man hath wrought a symphony of fights,
While the philosopher thinks and writer writes.
Sure as the wind dost blow west,
There must be an achievement that is best.
My greatest achievement one may guess,
Is some form of material gain or success.
Nay, it's not a thing that can be taken or sold,
Nor can this thing ever grow old.
It is something that if thee possessed,
The meaning of life would be egressed.
Ay! Tis' worth more than fields of gold,
My greatest achievement is the love I hold.