How Old Men Grow Old
Keeping death and exile daily before thine eyes, with all else that men deem terrible. But more than death throw your pity toward Yahweh. And those that govern the universe with goodness and justice. Than you may pass by the perfect understanding.
If I might choose, I would be found doing some deed of true humanity. Let me hope at lease for this. Learning to deal more wisely. With the dealing of life. For all I do is write poems about death. For its is the only way to pay my debt.
Now the souls gather out of hell's bath of sadness. But men grow old with girls who were so tender in life. And those who were to tend to the others. Now look at your life, well don't bother, why do you hold your heart so dear. Even when you know that death is near! So fear not young life, your death is the beginning of a new light. Now I can lay down my sleep and my life.
Copyright © Ronald Campbell | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment