Age is but merely a stepping stone t'ween the length lived and the meeting of death and then our God...
We are placed here on this ball of dirt and water to transgress and rise above temptations and sin.
For the 'morrow of our journey's end...
Where do we stop that ride?
Where can our souls fro' truth really hide? ...
Where do our failures and sin begin?
How may we end life's sins and lies? ...
Life's end is the way those sins and lies do die.
Those tales of failured in life need to cease failed being...
For memory in history will have a gladdening seeing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem