MAN IS A SHADOW: BY URCHWRITER

The life of a rose flower
Can be likened to our existence
How meaningless life is
Knowing we shall all die
The thought of it pricks my heart
So,” dust we are”
And, “dust shall we return”
Why then were we made?
Death now owns the world
While we are mere visitors
The reverse has become the case
The world is no longer our place.

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