this world weird
could you tell me?
This world where we bide…
Fugacious, it is, right?
Here thoughts do arise with sight,
and fade away like floating clouds.
Days appear like dreams I see at night
And nights seem like the tales I read daytime.
All that we experience will die with time.
Death comes upon even those with might,
destroying name, fame, and all clouts.
We fight and die with no right.
Death snatches all, true plight.
Can’t escape this stride;
Souls we don’t see.
And sky’s reared,
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