Resurrection of the Soul

We struggle and strive upon the remains of the world.
Through the earthly commodities, we take life for granted.
Upon being a commoner, we engage in duel.

After the battle we faint and then die as mortals.
We lay lifeless above the terrain of meadow,
with all the blood that spurred during battle.

After the death we rot like a stinky flesh,
Always waiting for vultures to erase our remains.
With the prayers of our magnanimous philanthropist,

The angel of death draws cerulean tears,
Due to the prayers that had been given,
Like a victorious warrior withdrawing from battle.