Let's take some time to reflect on the ones we have lost in the outgone year(s),
For we'll never see them, again,
To morn them, deeply and without refrain,
For this much we owe them, and rivers of flowing tears;

But, then again, life is a turning wheel,
That continuously, must, keep on moving,
However we may presently feel,
The hustle, must indeed, keep on going;

And as we take on another 365,
Men, take a closer look at yourselves,
Everything depends on you being alive,
So, pick up your health cards from those dusty shelves;

Make it a duty to oil your hinges, men,
Run, cycle, and liven up your waists,
Drink water, eat healthy, but not past ten,
Once in while, lift 'em solid weights;

So, when all is said and done,
Brother, you've one life to live,
Don't wear out your bone,
Ev'r before it's your time to leave.

Dearly beloved,
Yet, here we are, again,
Winding down another year's grind & hustle,
365 daily sweating the bustle;

Forgive me, whither I crossed you,
Mine spirit doth deeply begeth your forgiveness,
Aye, the new year can only get better,
Sharing renewed happiness and plenteous laughter;

Our losses, though they hurt,
Yet all glory to Yahweh all mighty,
Christ, Yeshua, continues to reign,
Constantly soothing our searing pain;

I love and cherish you,
Please find a reason to love me, too,
Never doubt the authenticity,
Toward you, of my heart's clarity;

And as another journey beckons,
Into the the daily unknowns,
Remember, Yeshua will intercede for his own,
As he sits, aright, Yaweh's heavenly throne.

The thousandth but one,
On this journey of four lines,
And although I'm not done,
I rest, a while, from the scribbling climes.

Everything has become nothing,
They thought he stood for something,
Now the masquerade is unclad,
And truly, he is quite mad;

Everything is backward,
One peaceful backyard,
Has become a battleground,
Fallen consciences all around;

Everything will come undone,
To this motherland we were born,
And a few will make it theirs?
Heavens forbid! It will end in tears!

My eyes never beheld,
Ever, such mound of pure bliss,
Pleasures of silky goodness,
Once in, no reason, to leave.

Always a pleasant experience,
Snuggled up in your field,
Embraced by your magical build,
Free of all, everything, and guilty conscience.

Something's not right,
But I may be wrong,
Dancing to an unwelcome song,
As though we were in a silent fight.