End Times (or) The Story of Every Day

Would that I meet another day...

if world be ready for its ends.

Will I pretend against

(as passed and passing sins have shown)

how little time remains for play?

Will I obey command to love

with all of heart and mind and soul

the one true God,

and neighbor like to self?

Or dance at odds,

with pride alone as holding-stake,

forsaking warnings uttered clear

through holy Word or witness dear besides?

Why hide, like Eden’s sinners old,

each moment rotted loose from truest Vine?

His Will be mine, I plead,

and plead again,

while breath remains to meet the dawn.