When leaf has fallen withered from the tree,
and night’s dark hand has swept aside the day.
When lips are sealed and eyes no longer see,
what world awaits the souls that pass away?
A world where life goes on eternally,
and man no longer toils to earn his bread.
A place where pride and greed have ceased to be,
where sickness pain and death don’t lie ahead.
Or when a man must leave his mortal frame,
once he has spent his hour upon this earth,
does time extinguish his internal flame,
when he has served the purpose of his birth?
Until man knows what lies behind death’s door,
the fear of death will haunt him evermore.
© 2015 Anthony Shacknofsky