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