THE BATTLE OF THE LIGHT
to win the fading of the light,
before its greatest battlefield,
death, has won the fight.
And when the battle cries do roar
with all their dying might.
Know then that sunshine is no more,
as the day succumbs to night.
Life is a precious gift,
to win that heart Divine.
Before it slips, to death, and drifts,
at the fading of the light.
And when the warming sun is sold,
to winters cold, and lost.
Know then, a summer's morn of gold,
will again melt the morning frost.
Life is divine uplifting,
to taste the love sublime.
High, on wings of doves, a-drifting,
on clouds which pass on by.
Not for their moment grey,
but for that in which they're lined.
The silvered thread, up in the sky,
to heaven tightly tied.
Life is a blessing,
for us to be our best.
To know, on Earth, we are addressing,
our greatest spirit quest.
And until the rising of our star,
we'll see weathers warm and cold.
But when we fade away, off far,
we'll bloom young again from old.
© 2024 Shoestring Shane
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