Paul asked, “Oh death where’s your sting”;
Yet you behave like a hallowed king.
He asked “Oh grave where’s your victory;
Yet our sorrows you produce in your factory.
Our loved ones are dead and down, six feet.
For our torn hearts you do not have pity.
You specialty is in tearing us apart;
When we weep and grieve that’s when you party
We live in perpetual fear of dying;
That is when you will be enjoying
We live knowing we’ll die
We live knowing for a loved one we’ll cry
Enjoy while you have time
Soon it will be our time
All your deeds will come to an end
When your power we’ll withstand
Soon you will be thrown into the lake
We know its prepared the fire full lake
Whilst we’ll be taking our rightful place
As we will be singing the songs of grace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem