Tossing on the
ocean of Being
of which
birth and
death, are
waves
You have
come
to man's estate
To survive
till the hour
of death
And then leave
like an
archer
with a broken bowstring.
Tossing on the
ocean of Being
of which
birth and
death, are
waves
You have
come
to man's estate
To survive
till the hour
of death
And then leave
like an
archer
with a broken bowstring.