Purpose Poem by Eric Bult

When death the sin collector comes for me
What contributions to the devil shall he see?
Written there for him to take below:
There's no such place, and that I'm sure you know.
Consider though the purpose of our lives
As our eternal spirit works and thrives
Within our brain in life to guide us on
Through each experience, if short or long.
It is this spirit which despite our doubt
Attends each life on Earth to carry out
It's task, or on some distant planet yet
Unknown within our universe, I'll bet!

Though many lives may be required to gain
Our own eternal garland we must train.