The day is coming soon or late
When all this matters no more
I'll chuckle when I contemplate
What all the worry was for.
All the struggle was wasted time
The prayers were pointless too.
Meaningless also; every rhyme.
Everything I did or didn't do.
The silent agonous cries at night,
The tears that were shed for naught,
Every smile, joy, and beautiful sight,
When that day comes, will be forgot.