to live or leave a legacy

you refuse to let yours be a pointless existence

and so you will do anything, fight everything

you fear fading away, having never even lived

so you swear the world will remember you,

and you rush into the fray.

well, they remembered you indeed --

but was it worth the price?

your lover stands at a grave,

holding your weapon in their hand.

you abandoned them on this earth,

because you needed to leave a legacy

now they wear it upon their neck like a chain

a reminder of your life

a reminder of your desperation.

who lives when you die,

when you write yourself into history?

was a legacy in eternity better than a lifetime in their arms?

have consideration, my dear and reckless hero

being remembered means so much less when you're gone

and the ones who remember you in truth,

in who you were and how you lived,

are not those who read your stories --

it is those who beheld your desperate rush into your demise

and prayed that you would hold still,

for just a moment

and live with them

rather than live by dying.