DEATH´S FINAL SAY:

It´s lived & hard worked at, this short passage we call our life,

Peppered with joy & happiness, with little pips & seeds of strife,

We are told that death is darkness, that very hot & awful place,

And we turn the other cheek, trying hard to avoid its ugly face.

It´s death that travels to meet us, in earth-hemmed & grassy skirt,

As we tiptoe rapidly through our years, those of gold & gritty dirt,

We assume that Satan´s there, with his hot trident red & waiting,

While we daily struggle, pulling back, with life´s final breath abating.

And when we´re deep & snug in the earth & covered up with stones,

When fleshy vehicle of life, is reduced to mere white & skeletal bones,

There shall be no pain & suffering, only the succour of peaceful sleep,

We´ll realise that while on earth, with fear, we all just lived like sheep.

And we shall soon all come to know, that on the other side of clouds,

There shall be no pointing finger & no blaming voice so cruel & loud,

There is no burning furnace, no pitchfork & no sad Devil´s awful din,

And we shall all question & ponder, about that fearful original sin.