The Universal Law
In a field where stones and flowers mix, Where silence reigns and time is fixed, A lesson etched in weathered script: All souls converge where shadows drift.
In a field where stones and flowers mix, Where silence reigns and time is fixed, A lesson etched in weathered script: All souls converge where shadows drift.
Here lies the lord, his coffers spent, Beside the beggar, no cent to rent. Their voices mute, their strife resigned, In death, no chains of rank can bind.
The proud man's plaque, once gold and bright, Now tarnished under moon's pale light. The humble stone, with edges worn, Shares the same earth—all pride shorn.
What folly, then, to boast and preen, For at the end, no difference seen. The jewels and rags meet underneath, The dusty cloak that all bequeath.
In this quiet court where rivals rest, No king, no serf—just earth's request. A unity found in final breath, The universal law of death.
So ponder deep, ye living souls, As through this life each moment rolls, That all our deeds, our paths, our fights, End equal 'neath the starry nights.
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