The raven circles high above,
Unknown in the night time sky,
Knowing that death lies far below,
Strafing the earth with avian eye.

He sees the sepulcher,
Of white marble and granite stone;
A body lies nearby,
Humble man with name unknown.
 

Build the pyre high for me,
Fuel for my last brave flight.
Say a prayer and wish me well,
And then send me off into the night.
 

Crowd with somber faces,
Surrounds the funeral pyre.
All wonders who it may be,
Who strikes a match and makes the fire?

A life lived very well,
Must reach out to an end.
All glory to our God above,
And then my soul to send.

Learn well from this,
Ye children of mine,
   For this is the race we run,      
Without regard to anything,
Except our day be done.

Welcome flight to Evermore,
Departure at Gate One.
Your painful sojourn on Planet Earth,
I’m pleased to say, is done.

Fear not, I say,
 For fear is far worse,
Than any unscheduled ride,
In a mortician’s hearse.

All the multitudes of traveled man,
O’er time unmarked,
Walk smartly toward the brightness,
And forsake quickly they the dark.

For promises of eternity,
Are rewards indeed,
And release from this flesh and blood,
Indeed shall set me free.