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Choices

We are born without instinct,
yet, know we will die,
the place and time unknown,
the mistakes we make, chiseled in stone,
matters not our burden,
our chore,
its how we live,
determines the score

The righteous,
the common,
the wicked are man,
all three,
a different purpose,
in the grand plan

Righteous men,
fear not deaths door,
know after life,
there's so much more

A wicked man,

fears death,
its permanence,
its guise ,
for when he dies,
surely,
silently,
he will lie

The common,
know, when they are born,
they will die,
never quite righteous,
or sharing a wicked mans plight,
why do so many risk,
transitioning, between light and the night,
maybe its because of God's,
benevolent eye,
only a few righteous, alive at one time,
the masses make decisions,
how we lead their lives,
doing so without interference,
but, always, under his gaze, from on high,
allowed to run each life blood course,
our fate,
to be judged,
to be determined,
damnation or reward

Then there's the wicked,
hold no sanctimony for life,
for him only to judge, and sort out the why

We know when we're born,
someday,
we will die,
If not righteous or wicked,
life temptations are many,
its rewards are few,
the years of good life,
go quickly by,
decisions made today
are judged when we die,
its our choice,
we have the power to decide,
will it be damnation
or everlasting life

Learn more about this author, Mac McGovern.
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