mortal
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Below Fire’s hairs, there he sat
on mortal Wood’s structure
to chant and chat
with Heaven’s charming cheer
Life is like a car without brakes
Except on fire and filled up with snakes
It frantically flies, as if scraping the skies
And will probably end up in a lake
But life has a deadline in mind
The moon
herself will hide
shamed in your light. How then
could this mortal hide, his madness
for you!
Our clock is tickingAs our last years are coming to an endA time when we leave our childhood years,When we leave all our old friends.The old tree diesAnd the new roots beginAs we part our separate ways