Earth's Just A Scene

How pathetic, when lost men grow bold,
Steering their ships of life o'er shallow shoals,
Deaf to warning bells advising them hold,
Confident, despite dangers to their souls.
It's no use sending witnesses to warn;
They hear the words, but meanings are shorn.
They think the messages are false alarm,
Their lives are thin cloths, about to be torn.
Tell them, please, before it's fore'er too late.
The threads they darn are merely puffs of smoke
That first balloon, then vanish, sealing fate,
With no fruit for God, He judges them broke.
Our unseen world is more real than our seen;
Their souls more real than flesh; earth's just a scene!

The time we live on earth is brief, like one scene in a five-act play. We are born of flesh; it begins dying as soon as it is born; life in the flesh is brief. With the confidence of youth, we never think of dying; turn around a time or two, and you are old, because your flesh quickly ages, then it dies, Thanks to the God that made you, you have a soul, not made of flesh; it lives forever. If this life on earth is all that you think you have, you are poor indeed; further, if you live like this life is all, you will be even more impoverished, because after the death of the flesh, you will resurrect with a new eternal body, but you will find yourself in an awful place. This life on earth is nothing; the life that follows is everything.