Rendezvous with Death (Poem)

Death is a slip that makes us weep
Yet a third of our lives are passed in sleep
And the rest is spent chasing those things that cause to stir and agitate

Tunnel vision beading in
The works of futile hands
Marveling in the craftsmanship that plunders every land

Death to all the works of God
So long as we get our fill

Consuming every resource
As we fight over what we kill

Never taking out the time to worship the one true God
By given back to Paradise the prices that we toll

Those who will not fast for what they keep
Refuse to sow what they may reap

But reap as you may
And sow as you will
All you have will toll a bill

So pay it up before the dawn
Or when you wake
It’ll all be gone

Excuse me while I take a step
I have a rendezvous with death

A few steps more till I reach the twelfth
My life is surely not for self

For all I have is all for you
I live and die for the rendezvous