Bare foot,
A taste of sensuality,
Whilst we stampede along,
To the beat of life’s song,
And relaying,
As we pass the baton on,
Tracing the lines mapped out,
That we believe to be our destiny.
Beneath the concrete,
And mud,
Our feet hover above,
Worms meat,
Without stone,
We may forget,
But the deceased are down there,
No bet!
We may not possess the knowledge of our fate,
Our future,
But there is one guarantee,
One day we shall be the foundation,
Of which other feet will hover above,
Mortality is our fatality,
No matter what,
Forget this not!
Superiority is irrelevant,
And whilst life is a gift,
It is also a sentence,
Escape death we may not,
From our first breaths,
We begin to rot.

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