A hand carved stone, an inscription below.
A name that could barely be read,
A soul that once loved this earth
Lies resting in this earthly bed.

Perhaps there once flowed royal blood,
Their lips tasted worldly fame,
But it matters not at the end of the road,
For death, comes to all the same.

Their name may be written in the history books
And scholars their deeds recall
But when Love reads from the book of life
Will their deeds matter at all?

It's good to leave good deeds behind
Enriching the human race
But she'd rather have Love know and call her name
When she meets him face to face.