Mortal man! Oh mortal man!
Like a whirlwind in the Saharah
You blow and flow in every direction
Appearing to be so busy here and there
With no eternal value to show for it.

Like a hungry angry lion,
You chase every prey called opportunity
Paying no attention to this body wherein I live,
Having no time for meditation, togetherness,
Prayer, laughter, and such things as I like

I'm the invisible immortal part of you,
I starve and die slowly daily
But, at my agony, with blind eyes you look,
To my painful cry, with deaf ears you listen;
Consoling me with polished procrastinations
While craving and chasing mortal things
Which you must one day live behind.

But there comes a day when down this body breaks
For self-attention deficit
And you suddenly have all the time to receive
Medical attention in the temple of medics
Where you'll willingly pay to be tormented
By soulless syringes and other medical equipment
In pursuit of the same good health
You once enjoyed for free but took for granted.

What then is a vanishing vanity,
If not to amount inexhaustible wealth
For a sick soul strolling to the great beyond?