Everyone alone someday
before his savior stands.
With fear or joy his head is bowed
and joined are both his hands.
Mere words will not effect
the praise he heaps upon his lord.
Those myriads of sentiments,
in holy books are stored.
The day of judgment's here at hand,
no longer must we wait
To find the fruits of seeds once sown,
and face our deserved fate.
None shall have a partner,
none shall have a friend.
No one here to help us,
we face god in the end.
Upon the merits of our deeds,
heaven bound we float.
Or sail upon the river Styx,
in the dark and gloomy boat.
Come what may, be good or bad,
we cannot fail to see
As we sow so shall we reap,
It all is up to me.