That Place
Like a stillborn child they slept;
Their good and evils they
couldn't do again.
In a place quiet, dark and
lonely,
Where even prisoners are as
free as kings.
Many hopeless people desire to
go there and live;
Those who are grieved; who
seek death.
The rich, the poor, the famous,
the wretched;
Those who prefer the grave to
any treasure.
They desire to go there;
A place with a mouth that
never closes;
Always open to recieve;
Always expanding to
accomodate-
The vast populace trooping in.
How I hate to go there,
The tombs stones and
engravings;
Oh! what a terrible sight!
Always, I pray earnestly,
Not to travel that to land.
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