Old Man

The majestic predawn light, rippling through the ashen clouds, cadence of the morning birds sweet songs, glistening dew covered flowers of spring, all these things sadden me, tormentors of my weak and fragile soul, for this is the blessed day of my death, the path of my walk has ended, i lay down my stick and cloak, not needing them for where i go, now i bow my head in one more prayer, "lord come and take me unto your arms, for my path has ended on this earth.", a golden light of the heavens shines down, and the voice of the king of kings says, "my child death is only the begining, in your death you come to me."


Commas seperate the lines "copied it over from somewhere else i wrote it"

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