A chilly wind begin to blow, within my soul, from Head to Toe, And then, Last Breath escapes my lips, It's Time to leave | |
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Tomorrow could be your Day, At last, it comes to Heaven or Hell Decide which now, Do NOT delay! And now, as beneath the sod They lay me with my record flawed , They cry, not knowing I cry worse, For, they go home, I face my God! Tomorrow could be your Day, At last, it comes to Heaven or Hell Decide which now, Do NOT delay! So, it is True But it's too Late They said: Each soul has its Given Date, When it must leave its body's core, And meet with its Eternal Fate |