by S. E. Johnson

I have but broken promises to give,
Limited days I have to live,
Fortunes earned and fortunes gone,
Silent waking at each dawn.

I have no reason soul to rage,
No promises of a ripe old age,
Quiet steps along the way,
While exiting this mortal stage.

Sweet peace I pray I might receive,
My hope in all I do believe,
And quietness to come to me,
When from this life I am set free.

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