Johny Christ, the hitman-turned-messiah,
Conferred Death Painless with his barehands
His ads were passed on secretly
And invalids formed his early clientele
The depressed, the spurned and the real thinking folks,
All awakened to Nirvana Call, called him
He left no trace, and the deaths looked natural
Death Painless- quiet as breathing
His popsicle-*******, while administering, kept the people guessing
Where his powers came from

Johny Christ was not without his own share of Temptations- he fought, for example,
The urge to Save the roly-poly kid
Who was clumsy with his hands and Stood over the dropped food and Looked clueless about life

Youth feels like you can touch the flames of the sun.
Or capture waves of water with your barehands.
To collect air and name them from which location they are from.
Without fear or doubt on what tomorrow will bring, or what's to come.

Time comes and betrays Youth and introduces the stages of life;
infant, student, lover, achiever, money seeker, and old age facing imminent death.

Confused and discontented, you ask Time if you can bring back your Youthful spirit.
But you know you have used it all up, as at an old age you are almost running out of breath.

Acceptance and confirmation are the next actions you can take. The only options.

You hold yourself together until Time comes
to claim what you owe, payment of your life to its debt.