THE HONEY AND THE ROOTS

At end,

You shall all taste it

The death, that always waste it

At end,

You shall all doom

Sleeping in small scale room

At end,

You shall all thin in air

While grows on you, greyed hair

At end,

It shall claim your foots

Either honeous or roots

At end, 

When it honeous , it's joyous

When it's root, it's piteous

At end,

It will be determined by deeds

And how you raised your seeds

At end,

You shall all visit the grave

After death angry wave

At end,

All your "up and down" will shut

Leaving out the land, without "but"

At end,

When it gives a closing borders

Leaving uncovered, your shoulders

At end,

When you shall greet the pains

Last pricks, leave life in vain.