Good news it is for the righteous kind
A curse and damnation for the wicked mind
But men cannot believe or be of fright
For death comes like a thief in the night
It’s advent in our life, we cannot say
Nor it is fine to say come what may
What can we do then? Oh but take heed
Of all life’s doctrines and on it, feed
It comes to the old man on his death bed
Or to an infant in its mother’s stead
From love, hate, plague and sickness too
Wars in our homes and in Waterloo
From how you breathe, thou shall die
And count the tears while thou lie
And wait for the day to be ascended
To celestial glory or whatever thou have been merited
Oh death when will thou take me?
Or what manner or how will thou set me free?
Life is nothing without thine corruption
Death and life- a same mission
No comments:
Post a Comment