The invisible world of death invites freedom to choose to think of death as latent process
Having nothing to do with that of us that lives on and on and on as love that was formed
and passed on. For love itself, never dies.
O death that flaunts finality No one dare erase God's name data base It's true your voice is known in space But from age to age, the Source hands you cue And old souls in young bodies does grace old school You've been cheated, whipped, passed by No lie. You who crawl, sneak up, zap You're jealous and that's that Mortals will recall all worth recalling Year in year out, memories rule As in class of old school People, places, and things will ring bells Before and after your appearing Their flag pole will never stay void of flag Traces of love is not yours to chase. You won't always have your way Life was reformed long before your horn Who told you, you own the throne? No one has crowned you The Source A tree dies, and is reborn before your eyes A human life, any form assigned, returns And so you're stripped of the final word. You have sealed shut countless voices And cause silence to have its say But ancient voices you knew, are yet displayed What's of the dark does come to light The invisible world is not your domain The Source has ordained you're just a part of it... IT, being Creator of all Even in Eden, provision was made for those who fall. *
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