Know that this life with all of its sorrow
Pain and fleeting pleasures is not the end
No, but a just transition point, a rest stop
If you will, and perhaps a testing of sorts.
As I lived, I held a rather strange thought
Always there, always following or even
Preceding what I did, or failed to do and
That was, “this is for your soul to reckon.”
Many paths have I trod, some treacherous
Others, smooth and pleasant as if planned
I recall them all, every sharp turn, hill and
Rut in great detail, I cherished every step.
Please remember me for ‘who’ I was, not
For my accomplishments, or lack of them
Because many before me, and after, have
And will do greater things of that I’m sure.
I was just a faulted man who loved much
Hated little, and most proud to say, I did
Persevere, and my soul is stronger for it.
Adding your comment:
