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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Dear God, WHY? © Ben Burton There's precious little joy in growing old When few, if any, life-long friends survive Fond memories seem richer when they're told To someone who can smile and verify Yet, it is thus and thus it shall remain Death is as much a constancy as life As long as man inhabits this domain Lightheartedness must yield when death is nigh Yet those whose tenets stretch beyond the grave View death not as an ending but a goal And if there be but one existing way Then Satan is, by far, the King of Souls The numbers have been checked and certified Less than one-third embrace the Christian faith Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, must abide Eternal pain within that other place To question what seems flawed is heresy For those who say it's all part of His plan But age implores one view this tragedy In horror at the human avalanche All tumbling into never-ending hell Some barely having tasted earthly wares And how can faith rescind all that is felt When watching life surcease, without a prayer At least, no prayer that makes a difference Though even Christians like to think it so But there remains a cold encumbrance For those not saved all Heaven's gates are closed If age embodies wisdom in this realm Though human years are but a tick of time Who might inquire, instead decide to quell The greatest unknown question, "Dear God, WHY?"
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