In pain we depart to a journey in a distant land unsure of what we shall meet.
We toil in endless days praying and hoping it will come to an end. Tossed around by a directionless wind but safety is sure because there is a home.
A home indeed but not for all, for only those who have saved at all
In everlasting bed of rose to rest, be sure of your eternal rest.
Heaven is real but not for all. The choice to go is simply ours, believe it or not we will know. Would we be welcome or told there is no room?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem