Death seemed certain, the doctors all said.
Was it really true “That in days he’d be dead”?
He didn’t want to admit, yet he was driven by fear.
He broadened his shoulders, hid every tear.
Before he knew when his end might be,
He boldly proclaimed his own sovereignty.
To admit his fear of what is unknown,
Would be worse than death and eternity alone.
“No one can know my anguish inside!
I’ll act like I’m fine, my feelings I’ll hide.
People speak of God, oh the anger that brings!
Please go away, or talk of other things!”
Alone on the bed, his mind starts to race.
“I’m tired of bondage; could there be grace?
No, it will never work, for me it’s too late.”
With his back turned on God, he awaited his fate.
The preacher knew not what exactly to say,
At the funeral of the man who had gone his own way.
All that he knew, was that he’d made a bad choice,
Hardening his heart and blocking God’s voice.
There’s no changing it now, he must pay the cost.
Death swallowed its victim—his soul eternally lost.
