The art of dien is a hard process for me to grasp. I understand that I had many friends and family that pass. Many people shy away from the white light. Even when they are dien they are still trying to fight. So that leave me to think even when you are gone its still hard to reach great heights. The day when I'm on my way to them big white gates. I would know its fate. Now I understand that life is to important to be forsake. So now I will close my eyes for the lord to take me home where I belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Let me know what y'all think