'' You'll Finally Meet Your Creator '' Poem by Bri Mar

What we class as dead,
Is all in the head,
The human can be so unforgiving,
It has to be said,
To the next life you're led,
Which ensures that you do go on living.

The body's a shell,
In which we all dwell,
In the main we have total control,
Though it's great to be well,
And being ill is hell,
Only you can damage your soul.

It's a bodily existence,
Which can go the distance,
But as a journey it's only the beginning,
With godly assistance,
Using spirited persistence,
In the next life it's you who'll be grinning.

Too many ask why,
We need to die,
Have faith and you'll reap what you sow,
It's not a lie,
Death is not goodbye,
So, do not let it come as a blow.

We all move on,
After we've gone,
To where is entirely our choice,
While here what you spawn,
Decides your new dawn,
It's for you to regret or rejoice.

No need to grieve,
Your pain I'll relieve,
While here you are but a curator,
When you finally leave,
If in God you believe,

‘' You'll Finally Meet Your Creator ‘'