Namaste, My Lost Buddhist Brethren: The Tibetan Book Of Dead.

The high altitude of the great Himalayas

And the scarcity of breathable air

Distort the thinking process of the mind

While gasping for a breath

A train jumped rails

A pure awakened newly oiled machine

Traveling on polluted tracks

A “bright” resurrected idea from here

A longing for stupidity from there

And we end up with the book of dead

Atisha outgrew all leather bags

And is far beyond, to correct the path

Any engineer around to spank you?

At best you are a temporary substitute

Embarked on a defeatist crusade

A parrot cannot assimilate

At least recount properly

Where did this absurdity come from?

The Tibetan book of dead!

Tensin you are no Buddha

At best you are awakened and still struggling

Do something, or step in-line

If you are dead you do not need a book

If you get lost, you will find a way

Do not worry.

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