On some dreaded drury day
in my bedded casket buried
I will lay
in the ground among soil and stones
I'll be bound my flesh will spoil
and turn to bones
though for life I yearn so much
back to dust
I return as such
just one life
is there such a thing
or will my death
a new life bring
will I be born again
to go places
I've already been
will life have more stages of rhyme
or will I be gone to the ages of time
can anyone answer this quest I ask
or like me
at best, bask
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If we could know for sure, what would be the value of faith? Nice poem Ernest.