Colin F. Jones

~ God and War ~

~ 1 ~

You live here in my memory; yet you don’t live;
These images are just pictures of what you were.
For death devours all the love we give
And denies that miracles can occur.
You’ve gone from me; forever you have gone,
So permanent and final your life’s loss.
There is no trace of what you were – not one;
Gone beyond the grave – beyond the cross.
Life is not life lived for the future dream
Of heaven and all the promise of its peace.
For heaven keeps our silver grasses green
That hope within us will not, by living, cease.
For what is life if, when we die, it ends;
A dead dark coffin Satan recommends?

~ 2 ~

Who sentenced me to life; from which I’ll die
Are burdened with the torture of their own.
And though I pray to God, I know I lie,
And those I love will be but wasted bone.
We pray with hope knowing all is lost,
For none escape the gallows of the earth
We have no time to think, nor count the cost;
No time to measure what a man is worth.
It seems that life is but a march to death
Along a worn and endless narrow road,
Reaching our dreams completely out of breath
To whither ‘neath our self-created loads.
Is heaven just this; a lure upon the life’s line
Or a real place – sacred and divine?