When we die, our Worldly chapter closes,
We might have supplied thorns or roses,
One day, air may reject all the noses,
That state, Sun's end only imposes,
One fights, argues and sternly opposes,
If that one with love and wisdom muses,
To show hatred, his mind then refuses,
To be affectionate, his heart chooses,
Peace is sure, if kindness one uses,
As true bliss, that alone produces!
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