Some have gone to sleep at night,
Their souls secure within His grip,
The sins of yesterday, today
Already washed and cleaned.
Some have tapered slowly out,
Every last breath a long release,
The daily giving up of life,
The agony of gasping prayer.
Some are taken by surprise,
The unexpected thief at night,
The question and the gun’s reply,
The martyr’s sudden calling.
Some have gone with open hands,
Others clutching, grasping still;
And some have given up the ghost,
Others had it taken.
They know what we see in part;
They have completed what we’ve begun.
Is it we or they who wait?
Such questions soon will not matter.