Anthem Of Life
Say it not in grieving breath,
That life is but an awful chase.
For the life that slumbers is ruined,
And nothing is real ‘xcept we made it so.
Life is sweet! Its toil is worth the tussle!
The grave is not its end.
We are dust but not our souls,
A divine spark within our bosom burns.
Not to labor, nor to enjoy,
Was not our destined task
But to act the script of Him who made us
And spread his fragrance on this sphere.
In the world’s large field of battle,
In this transit camp of life,
Be not like a driven steed of burden
But a champion of your every struggle.
Put no trust in the unknown morrow,
For you know not what it brings.
Act fast while the day still linger
And, fill your days with glee.
Our heroes’ tales a witness to us,
We can make our lives sublime.
When we quit life’s giant stage,
History’s’ pages will bear our deeds.
Pages that someday may the morrow inspire,
Set aflame the fainting souls of dreary pilgrims.
Sailing thru’ life’s stormy coast expired,
May find strength to brace life’s every grim.
Let us therefore with heads up high,
Even while life’s soar wine we taste.
For if we do, we birth a strength for the morrow
That will aid another in his quest.
Comments about this poem (Anthem Of Life by Dave BenOdafe )
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