He is not afraid
Of the end that awaits-
Not a shudder, no shiver
Does he, in soul, weigh.
He is not afraid
Of the darkened doom,
Or the million colours spread
In that halo of gloom.
He is not afraid
Of the power hidden
In the beyond, the unseen
Of the absorbing ocean’s end.
He is not afraid
Of the end of the birth;
Not a whisper does he seal
Of the good end’s deal.
No fear guides him,
No taste of doubt-
No smear of guilt,
Nor conscience’s great clout.
The end he faces,
His head held high-
But no question he answers
Because he is not afraid.
The end he looks at,
A grin upon his face,
No guard he upholds,
Because he is not afraid.
He is not afraid
Of the end of the world;
So to death he speaks,
As to him it whispers.
He is not afraid
Of the end of all worlds
When the end awaits him
With anticipated fury.
It struggles, strives-
But he is not afraid;
It lays its trials-
But he is not afraid.
He is not afraid
So death fears him;
Bow down to him,
The merciful Lord of the End.
He is the master of the end,
Conquering all above-
The master of life,
The master of death.