These few words highlight the stark reality of our existence.

When birthed, we are born with none of the attributes, and shed them upon departing. Our birth is not a reward, as every aspect of life is a struggle, interspersed with euphoria to keep hope alive. We are a product of fire, and so to purgatory we shall descend.

Ones belief is their own, a means to cope with their struggles. Neither do they influence nor are a part of this reality.

A concise poem is presented, where explanation becomes volumes. I do so want to thank you all for honoring me with these and further comments.