In this world of endless longing and strife,
A man's desires know no bounds, no end of life.
Two yards of land, a mere fraction of space,
Yet a dream that drives him, a goal to embrace.

In this world of limitless desire,
Just two yards of land we do require,
But alas, 'tis only after death,
We find our final resting breath.

The shroud, a symbol of our fate,
Two yards of cloth, a narrow state,
Yet in life, we chase our dreams,
And hope our desires are fulfilled.

But why, oh why, is the world this way?
Why must we toil and struggle day by day?
Why do we crave and yearn and strive?
Is it not enough to live and thrive?

But alas, our desires are insatiable,
We hunger for more, we are unstoppable,
And so we toil and struggle on,
Until our final breath is gone.

In this land of two yards deep,
A simple thing, yet some secrets keep.
A shroud of two yards profound,
Conceals the truth, and mysteries unbound.

Two yards of sheet, is such a modest shroud,
Wrapped 'round our dear departed now,
A final farewell, a final rest,
Before the earth shall claim our chest.

The grave, a silent, hollow space,
Awaiting all who come and go,
A reminder of our fleeting grace,
And the finite nature of our glow.

But why, oh why, is the world this way?
A question that echoes, night and day.
Why must we struggle, why must we strive?
For even two yards of land, we must arrive.

The answer lies within, a truth we must find,
For the world outside reflects the world we find.
If this is the world, then why is it so?
A riddle that haunts, a mystery to know.

If the world is as it seems,
A place of plenty, a place of dreams,
Then why do we struggle and strive,
With so little, we must survive?

If this is the world we live in,
A world of plenty, a world of sin,
Then why do we cry and bleed,
Under the weight of our needs?

If this is the life we lead,
A life of want, a life of greed,
Then why do we search,crave and seek,
For more, for more, for more to need?

And in this world of plenty, where wealth abounds,
We search & seek for meaning, never finding a sound,
Even with new lands, new shroud & skies so bright,
There's still no trace of the new human sight.

Our desires, they know no bounds, it's true,
We crave for more, but what's the clue,
In this endless chase, we're lost and astray,
Our souls, they wither, day by day.

We cling to things that bring us pride,
But true fulfillment, we can't find inside,
For in our hearts, a void resides,
A longing for something more than pride.

Even if we gain new land to roam,
There's a new shroud to hide, a new sky to call home.
But amidst the change, a question we must pose,
Where is the new human being, with a heart that glows?

In this land of two yards, we search...