When sorrow overwhelms a tired mind
Apparel black is costume fit for thee.
The orange eaten leaves a bitter rind
A joyful life now dark as death to me.
This head is filled with curiosity
For destinations of departing souls.
What payment waits beyond eternity
The corpses' deeds beneath the grassy knolls?
But saints to stifle horror with relief;
For golden gates that guard truth, love and peace
Await the righteous with holy belief.
There is a Lord whose love will never cease.
And death can never hope my soul to reap
For I shall shining rise no more to sleep.