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A good name is better,
Than a precious ointment;
Like warmth of a sweater,
Without disappointment.
Because the day of death,
Exceeds the day of birth;
After taking last breath,
Losing all of your worth.
Best to go to the house,
Where they will be mourning;
Than to feast with their spouse,
As she is adorning.
This is the end of man,
Living lays it to heart;
Sorrow is better than,
Laughter that would impart.
For by sadness of face,
Makes the heart to feel glad;
Suffering will embrace,
Chasing away when sad.
For the heart of the wise,
In the house of mourning;
Will shine through of the eyes,
Like dawning of morning.
But the heart of the fool,
Is in the house of mirth;
So arrogant and cruel,
Showing of no true worth.
It is better to hear,
The rebuke of the wise;
Than of the song of fear,
That fools try to disguise.
As the crackling of thorns,
Like the laughter of fools;
Mere vanity that scorns,
God and His golden rules.
Oppression drives the wise,
Into vivid madness;
Filled with deceit and lies,
Changing joy to sadness.
Copyright © 2019 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Brief Life Certain Death
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