Changing cycles, ending where I should've begun, standing now on shoulders of death, living life shortly in measured breaths.
Yesterday's have slipped downhill into a cemetery hole, while hopes of dreams, longing and yearning have quietly crept outdoors.
Knowing there's not enough time to do good in this world, yet praying that I've done enough in my short life to please our Lord.
Taking steps, gently, towards earth's horizon, knowing soon, I'll be living beyond this mortal world.
Departing life will be a particular joy when I'm in our Lord's heaven with Him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem