Death will tell.

I don’t doubt, sometimes,

that I may not make it,

among the chosen ones,

the steadfast, 

the unwavering,

the ones who stood firm against sin.

But still, I try.

And my trying will only cease

the day He has fated my end.

Perhaps by then,

I will have earned my passage

to the joys and everlastings of His promise.

I still hope.

I still see the possibility.

I still long to be part of that eventuality,

in the land where milk and honey flow.

                                                       Image by Gábor Bejó from Pixabay