April 10, 2020-April 3, 2021


Death Is Not The Victor


it is Friday


death thinks it has won

has no more cause for fear

its Nemesis is at last entombed

behind stone and seal and guard

forlorn, blood-soaked timbers

darkly stand on silent crag

above nail and jar and spear

silent testimony to its triumph



it always wants the last laugh

its Friday, but Sunday's coming


it is Saturday


death thinks it has won

stands upon this tortured stone

raises its defiant shout to God

“What will You do now?” it cries

“Ive destroyed Your long laid plan!

Ive murdered Your futile Son!

Your Son, Your beloved Son

lies dead! Ive won, you fool! Ive won!”



it always tries to laugh last

its Saturday, but Sunday's coming


it is Sunday


death thought it had won

Friday night and Saturday

did not know at Sundays dawning

behind stone and seal and guard

Life! Unconquerable LIFE!

would easy burst its futile bonds

would dance again on God's good earth

would crush underfoot His mortal foe



will never have the last laugh

because Sunday has come, and LIFE!


Death is not the Victor
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

Copyright 2021

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