A Price To Pay Poem by Abel John

What's the price to pay for longevity?
The icy arms of death respect no one.
The bereaveds aren't only found amongst the poor.
Oh death!
A measure of equity in the world of both the rich and the poor.

You defile all human protocols and security,
And put to nought all medical claims;
No respect for sceptres and thrones.
In thought of safety, we keep our fingers dirty;
In the fight for beauty, our mortality stinks,
And in the struggle to die at not less than eighty
Our skin wrinkles, brain drains and old age hurts.

The things we hold valuable we've learnt to preserve;
Wealths and treasures to reserve.
But the pot of life - our most valued treasure,
Has no man the power to conserve.

Who desire not to live his full days?
Oh no, not one!
But the measure of man's days isn't in his honours;
For I've seen the famous of men depart early,
For obesity is a good concern.
And good conscience no better advantage;
Even saints step-out while the wicked trends the path of old age.

For every unique gift, there's a divine source;
An emblem of supernatural physique.
As the rock is to spring water, so is divinity to heavenly bodies.
Who desires long and better days?
Let him seek the Ancient of days for a brighter end.
He who seeks, finds.
For there's a price to pay.