We all know life ends,
We may not know the terms,
We may not know why or how.
But we do know the pain,
The sadness, the desolation,
We can't escape it, no matter how hard we try.
Eventually we become numb to the loss,
The pain, the depression.
We move on.
Even though it stings.
We don't know what's in store,
After we die,
But we trust in God to carry us home.
It comforts us.
Good idea about death....in truth, someone said to me...an old man long ago..He said that It is better to die than to live and develop sins
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Truth is truth who else can deny well composed