Indeed man’s days are like grass;
Here today and by tomorrow, it withers.
Just as the sun rises and sets,
As it glides from East to West,
So it is with a man’s life.
From when he’s born to his death;
Indeed, all the world’s a stage
And we write our script page by page;
One day, our scene will end
And all we’ve seen will end.
For in one final breath
We shall all see death.
O Mortal, dread it all you like,
Alas, it will only tarry but a while
Therefore be ready for it,
For death, we will surely meet
For some, ’twill be sooner than later,
While other will see it later than sooner
Therefore take heed how you live,
So when we, this earth leave,
It shall be said that we lived and loved
And our souls be received up in heaven above.
(c) Chukwudi I.