The truth is, life ends.
It starts. It finishes.
But hope is fruitfully rendered.
Will death answer life’s wishes?

Am I headed six feet under?
Burial: the finale. Or reincarnation?
The reality should be hell’s thunder.
My hope; the end leads to God’s station.

I am here once. This is it.
This is the time – my time.
One chance to finish on the path that’s lit.
One life to eat the bread, drink from the vine.

On His hand my name is written,
Born by Him again to know His glory.
At the right of the Father, Jesus is sitting,
At his feet I wait, he knows my story.