On Death

Death, thou art a harden’d crook!
Trying souls unwary to hook;
By the waters of a brook;
Few elderly to book.

Never art thou better than Birth!
Without which, no soul gets Mirth;
By Baptism, the Soldier of God
Enters His Abode, of the Lord.

Fie Death! Thou art a fool to steal
Souls unready to die- I feel;
But only through thy cruel Kiss,
Open the gates to Heaven’s Bliss.

God, He redeemed this sinful world
Through you; To show His love, I’m told;
His Resurrection proved Him God!
By thee, man goes to His Abode.

Man dies by fire, water, soil;
Soul climbs the celestial trail;
The unwary cannot get bail!
One day, all must to Him set sail.

Some day, man will have to die!
And in the grave, rest for a while;
The body, soul shall then live come,
For His Judgment, from every tomb!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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