Neither Time Nor Death
The hands of Time by haste sped,
Shan't rejoice over me when I'm dead:
When I, by eternal triumphant stride
Shall spend life unending on God's side.
The sting of death though hurtful,
Shan't render me to torment so painful:
When I, in the embrace of the Father
Shall have my tent there pitched forever.
Copyright © Folajin Ademola | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment