My Days Are Mortal

By Ze Han   

My days are mortal, fading, like a fire
that burns out like the embers in a mist
It pains my mind to think of things not prior
to death, to rot in earth, to not exist

But such a fate is destiny for all,
for all the earth and all that do exist;
I beg, "why put me on this earth at all?"
if such a sweet life must be put to mist

The dark before the birth is much the same
as that of after death; our destiny
and God did let me play of His fine game;
a game that sublimates to entropy

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