Life is permanent, everlasting,
It doesn't come and go -
The autumn wind blows and withers,
The green leaves and flowers,
To reappear again, after winter's pause,
I feel it happens in the blinking of an eye,
To this true word, man must attest:
The Spirit is the body's guest,
Some day it vacates its nest,
Like a swallow which flies to a foreign land,
And returns with the spring,
To build its nest again
Mykoul
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