The radiance of man reflects heaven’s hue, yet how fragile this fleeting world we view.
Fresh as dawn is its transient grace, yet shadows linger, erasing its face.
This world is a tent pitched for a brief stay; its glory crumbles, it withers away.
What value lies in this fleeting design when truth resides in realms divine?
The world’s riches, its treasures untold, all vanish, leaving the heart cold. Break free from the bonds of this transient land; seek the Eternal with an open hand.
