In all the years I have lived,
as a man, a boy, a kid.
Pondered have I, with every breath,
how would it be that I face death.

Some promised me an afterlife,
Of pleasures I seldom craved.
Some said I would burn in hell,
afraid were they, I wish them well.

Some said I needed a soul,
some said I had one.
Albeit naught in a vast whole,
some said I was the soul.

Redemption is the way some said,
to rest in peace, beneath the grave.
People to possess, places to haunt,
else they said I would ever hunt.

A few said, I would meet with GOD,
albeit only if I agreed to bow.
With empty heads and holy writs,
spreading fear is all they did.

Seldom did they know death,
Soldom do I;
Seoldom does anyone,
for all are yet to die.