Death's Brushed Aside
Death's specter stalks us all our days
Yet near the end it's brushed aside
By angels singing, haloed praise...
Death's specter stalks us all our days
We're lifted up by light's pure rays
Triumphant wings to heaven glide...
Death's specter stalks us all our days
Yet near the end it's brushed aside
September 04, 2019
Writing Challenge 1, September 2019 - Eight Line Form
Sponsor: Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2019
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