I was younger in my non-attachment,
My remembrance made me old.
My attachment was just the cord, umbical;
My baptism was done in the womb surrounded by the fluid.
I was born attached, later became non-attached,
Crying, because my stomach was calling for the motherly warmth.
I was carefree in my teens,
My remembrance made me cry.
My seconds can't be counted,
But my days are going passed by.
I hold my fingers together to pull up the food, mouth;
But my mouth is busy gulping the flow of tears.
A slight movement scares me
I am afraid to die on the shout of my shadow.
Ointment I receive;
Wounded, I look for surgery.
My only sound last a moment,
lastly 'Ah!' I recall.
The puff only is left of my heart,
I feel, I can feel ..... the gush coming out of me.
Aha! Death Divine!!
