by Nile, 12
Atlanta, Georgia
Cradling the troubled souls peace at last
Death can be freedom from struggle in life
Often in death our intentions unmasked
Cold hands grasp the blade of the final knife
The years have gone by slow as molasses
We may not choose life but we may choose death
Into the after life the soul passes
Sharply inhaled comes the final last breath
Into the steady arms of death we fall
Death may become an unwelcome surprise
Some meet death bravely but others do bawl
Out of the dying man’s heart his soul flies
Purchase to heaven no one every buys
Heaven is forever and no one dies