Valley Of The Cross Poem by George Samuel

Make memorial,
While you can still trade jewelries,
At the brazing shops,
Here you'd stop,
For friends, life can make you a diamond.

Or transform you into a demon,
You can't as an infant come and leave,
When you fall off as a leaf,
Let your footprints beat the sand,
Of times, where they stand.

And vanish when they're vapour,
Sunned, Sweat and sour,
Out of work the weakened hour,
Shall they not remain,
Through times of rain.

But only what they've done,
Only what they've sown,
Shall count whan they're gone,
Away to the land of the lost,
The valley of the cross.