Slipping Through Heaven's Gates

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Such thoughts of dying trudge and fly
And terrorize the simple mind
That only longs for any kind
Of peace of mind before we die.

There's no escape or bargains, lest
An afterlife is somehow here
To take a rest, assuage one's fear
Of suf'ring after His true test.

Though I have not believed in Him,
A pious group will he recieve
And with such men I hope deceive
His telling sieve of reapers grim.

Perhaps when death does come for me
A life of peace, should we agree.

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