The Cycle of Life

Babies born in gentle foldings
Die before their early years
The early years produce a girlhood
Who pass away to teenage years

From the fleeting girlhood passion
Soon emerges ladies young
And with their death of tribulation
A find of women they become

And the women, fragrant beauty
Die to elders finding rest
Older women have no future
For they can only die to death

Life is but a dying cycle
Out of which come none alive
It is a circle, an eternal cycle
Many try, but none survive