Death,
am I also your victor?
Is the end
a hindsight of things to come?
Will the end
bring an unconscious sleep?
Or shall I awake
into an unceremonious depth?
Or arise as victors
from the ashes of our lives?
Will our souls
be redeemed
from the travails
of daily vice?
Or shall
we fancy our dress after the lies?
Rising above
cloud and void
abounding in lonesome and blue,
Heart grieves
over a stalemate
at mourning\'s shore,
as the tide
rises to swallow
the meaning of this life,
Voice breaks
as tears
shed an uncertainty
laid siege at dawn’s wake
Lord,
shield me
from a plight of unrest,
as a heavenly host
of angels and song
beckon
with the arrival of prayer
O Lord,
guide my spirit
over the ledge,
over a desolate
and wanton excess
Sun rising
in beautiful
spellbound hues
shading an evening despair,
as an emancipating glow
cascades
into the heartbreak of my soul
O death,
where is your sting?
O hollow
ends of the world
bound in strife,
when will you finally arrive?
Breathing in
that ceremony
of peace and mind,
rest assured
the end to all things
is in his hands...