In dying we find our eternal life,
Everlasting, forever expanding.
Upright we see Christ's face,
Engaging, to our sacrificing.
There is no future but eternity,
Which lays over the horizon.
Knowing this in my heart gives ecstasy
Seeing the large cross in crimson.
Time has come yet no one to blow
The trumpet as it was destroyed.
We lost our ways but only few follow
The torment path to be crucified.
Do not complain to our Lord,
As we must fear what his plan is.
Jesus walked through this very load
To tell his sheep where their home is.
I am on their plan, knowing where to belong,
So I will wait for awhile, not too short nor too long.
/* I tried to draw a cross in my poem, and I made it. */
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