Should I meet God upon the shoulder of the day
What greeting would I lay upon my tongue?
What sanctity of the moment would come?
Alas, there would be none for me to relay
For surely He would have caught my essence.
My presence a lowly mass on the ground
~~quivering~~
Impossible for me to make a sound,
Albeit one that would matter before my Maker.
For what could He Not know of my arrears?
And I had naught to give save humble tears.