Cataclysm of cataclysms,
The End of ends,
The death of Death,
To hell with Hell.

The Devil and his minions,
The Dead outside the Fold,
Subsumed in Fire,
Truth consuming liars.

Outside the flames,
The Great Relief,
Absence of Pain,
Forgotten Grief.

Cosmos free of all that's fey,
Night consumed by glorious day.

The doctor's news falls hard upon him;
The hammer "cancer" deals a deathly blow,
Enough to shatter all philosophy
Stagger him in wheeling woe.

"My hunting gear and books and orchard
No longer hold my heart so dear
As they did just a week ago."

"Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may ****;
God’s truth abideth still.
His kingdom is forever."*

Old Luther told us plain and clear
Our anchor rusts if it be here.
On earthly shores, the harlot, Time
Demands we leave our pelf behind.

But still we gather up our things,
Amass our wealth, our riches sing,
Only to leave them, bit by soiled bit...
Wanting everything, but keeping none of it.

Time is a friend who's getting on;
She forgets promises she made in youth,
Gives the hope of summer coming strong,
Then Autumn steals in softly with the truth,
Steals strength and hope and hair and tooth.

I am attached to the people who are distant to me,
I yearn for the attention of the people who ignore me,
I make time for the people who are always too busy for me.

And so I then ask myself,
"If I am clearly not oblivious to these observations,

Why do I let these people rule me?
Why do I hanker for the validation of people who don’t care?
Why do I invest so much and get so little in return?”