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Preoccupied

A Sonnet

As I grow old and grey, days get shorter
 
Myself, I find preoccupied with death,
 
That moment I surrender my last breath,
 
Wondering what lies beyond life’s border...
 
Will my parting be painful and drawn out?
 
Or will I go peacefully in my sleep?
 
Will I be missed? will my friends even weep?
 
Will I wake up to hear the angels shout?
 
My daily pray’r; that my soul be prepared
 
For the long journey across death’s threshold
 
That peace I’ve made, with all, that dear I hold
 
Giv’n thanks to my love, for the life we shared;
 
Then ready will I be, and worry-free
 
To meet my Maker, and whate’er shall be!
 
10-16-2017
© Vic Evora

A poem from the past. Yet still relevant

#2017

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