055 – The Sting of Death (The Preacher)

Death arrived when I was born
His umbra my blanket of darkness
A veil that can’t humanly be torn
Left me helpless, sullen, and forlorn

Death transcends all imaginations
No one knows of his location
You see him in the eyes of every mourner
You’ll find him waiting around every corner
He appears as quickly as he goes
Taking with him a life he has chose

Released from the garden easy to describe
Death is dark
Death is empty
Death is cold
Death the antonym of alive

Death has no respect of person or class
No one is ever given a pass
A one-way ticket you must save
A final journey destination the grave

They say that “the wages of sin is death”
Yet man always seems to forget
The one that death claimed, but has risen
And has released man from death’s prison
But few will escape, waiting to be saved
To be redeemed from that one-way ticket
To the grave
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“It is better to go to a house of mourning
Then to go to a house of feasting
Because this is the end of every man
And the living take it to heart”
Ecclesiastes (7:2)

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