Living
Stand me beneath the gallows tree
so that I cannot fail to see
the face of Life once more before
Death takes me from this living shore.
Give me darkness where should be light
so there’s no diff'rence - day or night.
A candle in my hand, do place
so I can see death’s dim lit face.
Remove the shadows that hide truth
So with mine eyes I see the proof
that by my will I stand upright -
and I to none need be contrite
Oh Death, I do acknowledge thee
when/wheresoever you may be;
But you are not my king or God
even when I'm 'neath the sod!
In life, Death, you’re not real to me;
in death you matter not, you see.
Afraid of you Death - not at all!
I'll go with you when comes the call.
©Copyright April 4, 2005 by Anthony W. Pahl
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
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