As death comes to find you soon,
Holding a grip on what you hold true,
As the breath come from you lips,
And you fell tingling in your fingertips,
You skin turns cold face pale white,
What would be your last prayer tonight?
Are you consumed by fear felled with hate?
How will you answer at the black gates?
You have a choice on where to go,
Heaven or hell you should know,
Death is a rebirth of life,
What will you become this night.
Michael Wilkerson
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