Death

I turned myself
Turned my thoughts to know
To search out and to seek wisdom and the reasons behind things
Then I looked at all that my hands had accomplished
And at the work I had toiled at, and behold
All was vanity and vexation of spirit
As, to everything there is a season
And a time to every purpose under the heaven

There is a time for birth and death
Planting and reaping, for killing and healing
Destroying and building, for crying and laughing
Weeping and dancing
For throwing stones and gathering stones
Embracing and parting

There is a time for finding and losing
Keeping and giving, for tearing and sewing
Listening and speaking

There is also a time for love and hate
For war and peace

Everything that happens, has happened before
And all that will be, has already been

Now the end of the matter
Everything has been heard
Fear God and obey His commands
Because this is the whole duty of humanity
The times, my turns, all said and done
Laid to rest in ever living Hands
When dust returns to dust
The purpose has come