Closer To The End Poem by Terrance Tracy

Sixty-eight years on Earth, I have prevailed a time or two my funeral dearth ever since I arrived brand new.

My youth misspent I went to church was told to repent until God hears me vent and pay my tenth if I want to prevail; I did not know that salvation was for sale.

Seventy times seven I am to forgive if I want to live in heaven, I hope that God uses this same leaven or I might have to fight the goof for the right to sip from the Lethe, a place for the uncouth.

Not all is lost for there is no cost to seek his face and his grace, and that will put you back in the race if you have fallen over the way to the heavenly place.

When you have pitched your camp and trimmed your lamp with the worldly oil that will spoil the night will be darker, but the oil of heavenly delight will burn bright when your redeemer comes into sight to dispel all the rules and traditions, then you will know that he is the only condition.