Human life is so fragile
As the old Greek would say
At the mercy of the Fates depending on their day
Taking the thin thread with a bit of indolence
We are no more than marionettes
Playing on a board
Controlled by gods and other beings
Who are bored by their ego
They choose and use us
At their will, like a flower in a field
Beauty on the land
Which dies when you pick it up
Ruining their beautiful colors
Just to enjoy the odor
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