Your garlands have withered
And your breath is but an embalmed body
Your achievements are now meaningless
And can only pass for a passage in your obituary
And perhaps a history book
What then has become of your soul
Your money, properties and the life you so cherished
The eulogy read was like music
Tingled the ears
Sent shivers down the spine and
Spoke the language of the sensorium but oh
How I wished it could count for a call to glory
All cried and prayed for rest for you
Rest with the Lord, but unfortunately
That isn’t enough
Enough for a call up on the resurrection day
You didn’t live for Him?
You might have been a polyhistor but
having lived not learning his statutes
you ought to continue
A shofar blown in the presence of noble men
won’t wipe away any clandestine deeds
Since you disregarded his blood
My heart grieves and bleeds
Drenched in the pool of sadness
Of your uncertain destination
The earth is always deciduous but
when it’s your turn will you find a place?
Would you find rest indeed with the Lord?
One can’t but in the face of eternity be a sobersides.
He comes in a bit!
You leave in a bit!
Make up your mind!