The Line Poem by Badia Beiho

There's a line going on unending track,
Of slot human mask - as separation:
Upon races, ranges and all bloods' rack.
Love and Hate, Peace and War, or of Pardon;
Or Trial, Forgiveness and Blood Revenge:
Do reign the course of life - flowing steadfastly.
As the Smell of perfume used to got Age':
Sometimes Romantic place - staled steadily.
Oh! Sadness and Joy, Doubt, Faith, Live and Death,
And Darkness comes when Light's been un-preach'd'.

Each line with same sphere Confined within reach -
Maketh a little span of Amazing Breath.