comes nigh the end of life, my friend;
please hold my wither'd hand;
hear my sigh, my whispered cry,
my life force in the wind.

feel the sag--a pricked baloon
deflating all at once.
and pray for me with seven candles,
beg God to lend me chance.

sing, My Pretty, over me;
praise God but not me here;
pray God to save the sinner
and keep me with Him there.

©2013 by Monty Wheeler