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Ars Moriendi
They say sic transit gloria mundi,
Like a fragrant rose, Beauty wilts with age;
Wrinkles manifest and vision turns blurry.
Would you like to turn over to this page?
Faces, names, places – forgotten and lost.
New memories—embellished, and old—torn.
Reality is vague and lines are blurred.
Could you honestly go through life forlorn?
And like apples off a tree, they fall—free.
Alas, it shall take you through an ordeal:
Do you want to see your loved ones die?
Why don’t you kill yourself—the world is cruel.
But to sacrifice your child’s wedding day…
Is death worth not watching your grandchild play?
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