Here, I sit
Idle, perhaps, wasting away
Yet, the world keeps moving
When a man is so caught up from beyond theworld around him
He glories in his past and delights in his little successes
He forgets how far the journey is
So, he sits back to relax
Right there and then,
He slumbers and falls into a deep sleep
A sleep as sweet as death
Yet, the world does not wait for him to wake
The world moves on while he sleeps on
One day he wakes up, but the world is long gone
He begins to run, but the journey is far
Farther than it was in the beginning
A little sleep, a little slumber, a little indiscipline, a little negligence, a little indulging into sin-even if it be a little sin;so shall a man lose touch with his creator; so shall trouble befall a man; so shall a man’s end come speedily.
A righteous man falleth seven times and riseth up again; a sinner man riseth up more than seven times but falleth back down again.
A word for the wise.
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