Do not panic,
If I die tomorrow.
You do not know,
Why my call was so urgent?
You do not know,
The works of my hands.
For my Maker;
Will stand me up
Like a lawyer.
To know if I'm
Guilty or not guilty
On this last day.
For there will be,
Two roads for me to take.
One may lead me to fire,
And the other to Ice.
For they will be,
No choice for me to choose
The place I stay like home.
Even if I point up,
My Maker may point down for me.
What will be my say?
Who will I tell to amend their ways?
What will my song be?
For I do not know my last bus stop, yet.
Halfway to hell and halfway to heaven;
I have to wait till my Judge,
Hit the gavel on the block.
Before I will know where to be?
So do not panic if I die, 'cos one call will come for you, someday.
Comments
well crafted Ebube
well crafted Ebube
welcome to neopoet
Okay... Thanks for reading,
Okay... Thanks for reading, sir.
love the thoughts in this. i
love the thoughts in this. i would remove near the end "where to be" and just leave the first part of line
Ma'am, thanks for reading.
Ma'am, thanks for reading. Yes, nobody is fully hundred percent sure of where he or her maybe.