End Times (or) The Story of Every Day
Would that I meet another day...
if world be ready for its ends.
Will I pretend against
(as passed and passing sins have shown)
how little time remains for play?
Will I obey command to love
with all of heart and mind and soul
the one true God,
and neighbor like to self?
Or dance at odds,
with pride alone as holding-stake,
forsaking warnings uttered clear
through holy Word or witness dear besides?
Why hide, like Eden’s sinners old,
each moment rotted loose from truest Vine?
His Will be mine, I plead,
and plead again,
while breath remains to meet the dawn.