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.