Something About This Life

If you are alive and on earth my brother You better take every risk to succeed, Even if you do not court any hazard Existence is the biggest risk you must heed. Some things about this life are just not fine. You may gather remarkable wealth over time, Skipping meals and working instead of sleeping Until you end up with such abundance of dime; But then your Jeep loses one of its speeding wheels And you end up on the ice-cold slab of the morgue. Some other lazy folks take over your hard-earned estate, As other licentious rascals comfort your wife with a sinful song. The biggest risk my uncultured brother Is the fact that you live here on earth; Here heavens give you the grace to make the world better, And soon after the labor demise trims your mirth. Something about our earthly existence is simply not alright. You start the maturing of some expensive whisky, forty years in all; If you are fifty, be sure other never-do-wells will sell your whisky, Don’t think Azrael will watch you outlive the ninetieth fall. So those impatient chaps will imbibe your distillation without gratitude, Not even mentioning the name of the deceased fellow who brewed the thing, And cursing the ‘idiot’ who made such a crisp thing to be by others imbued; Not even humbled by the fact that the whisky is far much older than they! Living is the greatest peril, man. And if you dare attempt some funny suicide To do away with the unbearable menace, What do you think the final Judgment Council will decide? That a brazen murderer you should burn forever. You might be irreligious – but it’s a possibility still!