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A Meeting With Death I have a meeting soon to come, though I am not afraid, when flowers bloom, and trees bear fruit, perhaps in evening shade. When apple blossoms fill the air, exausting of one's breath, I'll have a meeting coming then, a meeting then with death. It might be that he'll grasp my hand, and beckon me to some far land. To close my eye's and still my breath, for I've a meeting yet with death. When birds are singing out this year, and all that blossoms will appear, God knows t'would be a better sleep, when I am laid to restful deep. No movement to be made in vain, no rushing thoughts to aid my pain. I know and yet I do not fear, when blossoms come death will appear. When spirit, soul, and heart shall bend, I too will then with spirit blend, and so I pledge myself with pen, I shall not fail this meeting then. |
Additional Notes:
When I was an angels breath away from death I wrote this, it helped me overcome
my fear.
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