The vision of my corpse upon the sand,
The silent song of peace uplifted high,
The shout of captive freed beyond the land,
This shall be heard above the bluest sky!
It ever seems my destiny to flee,
To follow aft a passion false indeed,
Yet soon shall come a time of majesty,
When no temptation may remove the seed!
I flee and ere return to God the King,
A constant cycle shown in Judah’s past,
Yet soon the knell of wretched life will ring,
No need shall prompt return, at longest last!
Oh come, sweet death’s repose to free the soul!
I cannot wait ‘til spirit’s fin’ly whole!
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written December 11, 2006
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