Death comes slowly, creeping,
knocking at the door.
People follow weeping
earthly cruel law.
Many start to tremble,
when the thought arrives, -
they look down, to graveyard,
they forget the sky.
But we are born from heaven.
What's the point in death?
Changing form - whatever,
no neeed to regret.
This amazing beauty
is not immortal. Flesh
is destroyed. Eternal
is only soul at rest.