The Gate of Death

THE GATE OF DEATH I will shut my gate; and no man can open it. And if I open it; all men shall come in once because of hunger in their world. The bodies that entered me daily is unbearable. The entrance of my gate has been battered. Come with your money; ye affluence that desire my beautiful gate. The weeping voices , blood stain of the innocents and the curses that follow some death into my gates; Scared me. I am only an entrance for your journey and not comforter of the bereaved. I lift up my gates, for evil souls to enter without security check on them, yet they refused to enter. They are waiting to snoop –on my gate; in my gate no detective enters and return. The imagination of hell kept many souls from dying, The gate of death where only the dead in Christ dances for eternity. My entrance is a sepulcher of peace for those that come in full age and lived rightly. Gate of death where entrance is optional. The faces of sepulchral, gloomy and somber tone voices of farewell never seize. Foot prints of the dead has broken my gate. But the architectural splendor of my gate which split personalities; Whenever they come in contact, I will shut my gate against unhappy faces; and corpses will walk freely with the living until the time appointed. Written by Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe