Death be not proud ?

A Journey,
on a road
that was so bumpy,
on a path
that was less traveled.
My dream, my dream,
so near, yet so far.
When would I be able
to rest my tired body ?

At times,
my dreams went wandering,
on a garden
that seemed so transitory
and yet
withered in vain glory.......
My maker,
what is the purpose of life ?

I see a promised land,
that is so strange and cold.
It is so far,
yet it is only a breath away.....

As my strength withered,
what I inscribed in my heart,
would I be able to carry forth ?
Would my love and deeds
forever sparkles, shines, and wraps
the people I love ?
Will they understand the tears I shed ?

All those strange language,
that has been whispered into my ears,
I fear not.
I know, when death come,
there shall be peace.