By Jonathan Meyer (c. 2003)
There is one fate that all men share
Although they share in different ways,
At different times, to different ends;
Some to their joy, and some to blaze.
Many men quite fear this fate,
This pass to joy or fearful doom,
For this they see of Qui'tus' Gate:
The slow decaying of the tomb.
The fools! in blind and pointless fear
They strive quite madly to prolong
Their stay on their beloved ball,
Remaining healthy, hale, and strong.
And when they see their death approach,
Unhindered by their feeble tries,
They strive to die a painless death,
A quiet passing, quick demise.
The blinded fools! The death they fear
Is not a reaper, but a door,
A gate quite sternly beautiful
We pass but once, to pass no more;
So why attempt to quickly pass
In restful, quiet, peaceful sleep?
The moment passing, we awake,
Eternity our watch to keep!
