This world is naught
Its time is coming short
The end of days is breathing down our necks
Agonizing deprivation has torn apart and left us bare
An awakening to the bleak future
No time left
From dust; to dust
What once was dirt shall return
Nothing to slow the ever-churning march of time
Your beloved riches fall victim to the thief
Your beloved possessions fall victim to the moth and rust
A grave return to the dirt from which we were formed
Vanity, all is vanity before the throne of the King
Darkness enshrouding
The soil piles high
Isolation; the flesh pass away
The soul subject to His judgement
A life lived in vain
A pursuit of greed
Idolatry harbors death and decay
No earthen vessels granted passage beyond the depths
A just resolve for your sins
Decaying flesh laying six feet beneath the ground
No treasures of earth can redeem you now
A forgotten husk fading into eternity
Now comes the day of your judgment
Now you stand before the throne of God
He shall decide the fate of your eternal life
Will you join Him in the Heavens; free of sorrow?
Or will He spew you from His mouth?
A grave return to the dirt from which we were formed
All is vanity before the throne of the King