For Those Afraid of Death

Is it not a pretty thing 
When bees and birds a-like can sing? 
And duty is no longer king? 
And across the earth our children dancing 
Can light to our dark spirits bring? 
So why do adults all endure 
The shadow of Death at Heaven's door? 
When Paradise forevermore 
Allows the bees and birds to sing? 
So why the Darkness we abhor, 
When Paradise gleams far, far more, 
 Than Earth in its nightly darkening, darkening…?

Reviews

[Matthew Smith]

Rare treat when the arts of, ah, rhyming and decent structure seems all but lost on WritersCafe.

Good write, better than my own. Think this might just go into my Library.