Beasts of This World: Zhenchen

Even a pure and noble soul will weep when forced to part; even a body formed through fleeting karmic ties will fall to pieces when disaster strikes. In a troubled world, we search for answers, setting the threads of passing cocoons ablaze, only to find ourselves lost in a fragmented field of vision. I once made myself a piece on the board, vowing to outwit Him by half a move. I once had friends and family all around me, raising cups in joyous feasts. But every game must reach its end, and every banquet must break up. The passes and rivers lie cold and deserted; the waning moon shines on the western tower. The sandbanks are silent, and ancient tombs lie hidden on desolate hills. Only at the very end do we discover that all things will eventually fade into silence. Just like a handful of dust: all things are born from it, all things grow from it, and all things will return to it.