The names are written on the walls
                                                The Book of Life that fills the halls
                                                Morality's song, sung and hung
                                                From eternity's doors, one by one.

                                                Those with eyes and could not see
                                                Those with ears that would not be
                                                Those with hearts closed and gone
                                                Are last to know the song is done.

                                                Standing before the Gates of Death
                                                They cry to God, Let me pass!
                                                Finding their knees, one time to pray
                                                God in Heaven, don't let it be me!

                                                Long gone are those whose hearts did know
                                                The reaper takes but sows anew.
                                                On winged soul, hearts that were true
                                                Flown to a world grown fresh and new.

                                                Many songs of friendships won
                                                Words of loves now done
                                                Will know gentle the feel
                                                Of  Father's reaping wheel.

                                                Yet last I remain, a loyal son
                                                Til the children are left and the beast is won.
                                                To hold His Father's lamp for all to see
                                                Know that I will not abandon thee.

                                                Alone I have stood
                                                Alone it must be
                                                To perform the tasks
                                                Chosen for me.

                                                Mortality tasks me and begs a fall
                                                Not to believe The Old One's call.
                                                An asp may lay in the bed of truth
                                                Delivered by tongue forked and not true.