This document uses repetitive phrasing to suggest that the roles and jobs of many natural phenomena and concepts may end, but that the job of parents never ends. It states that a parent's job does not end at giving birth, providing for a child, or even after death, as parents continue guiding children from heaven towards righteousness.

1. JUST DOESN’T END
The job of the sensuously virile clouds perhaps ended; at showering torrential
downpours of magically glistening rain; upon the trajectory of this fathomlessly
enchanting earth,
The job of the beautifully bountiful lotus perhaps ended; at timelessly perpetuating
the miserably rotting fabric of earth; with unbelievably insuperable scent,
The job of the vivaciously poignant ocean perhaps ended; at perpetually culminating
into quintessentially frosty salt; with every swirling wave that rose high and handsome
towards the royal sky,
The job of the everpervadingly fructifying seed perhaps ended; at spawning into an
exuberant plant; as the clock of indispensable time gradually unveiled by and by,
The job of the voluptuously tantalizing grass blades perhaps ended; at diffusing into
pristinely delightful dew every midnight; as the Omnipotent Moon crept up in
impeccably wonderful sky,
The job of the rambunctiously effervescent bumble bee perhaps ended; at rendering
unsurpassable tons of golden honey; in its parsimoniously catacombed hive,
The job of the eclectically talented artist perhaps ended; at capturing the
panoramically unconquerable beauty of this priceless planet; with his articulately
dancing paintbrush and upon the limitlessly barren canvas of his imagination,
The job of the Omnipresently blistering Sun perhaps ended; at majestically
inundating even the most infinitesimal arena of this boundless planet;
with unshakably optimistic light,
The job of the effulgently blossoming leaves perhaps ended; at triumphantly
permeating the carpet of the squalidly dolorous atmosphere; with rhapsodically
untainted wind,
The job of jubilantly exotic fantasy perhaps ended; at enshrouding every pore of the
monotonously devastated skin; with sensations of endlessly untamed delight,
The job of the gloriously intimate apogee perhaps ended; at towering into
the ultimate scepter of aristocratically unflinching courage and eternal victory,
The job of the inscrutably inexhaustible forests perhaps ended; at radiating into an
unfathomably unlimited valley of profound mysticism; as each day unfurled
into charismatically surreal night,

2. The job of the eternally iridescent waterfall perhaps ended; at heavenly revitalizing
even the most drearily subjugated of venom and dirt; that came in the course of its
magically gurgling cascade,
The job of the intricately blessed veins perhaps ended; at unceasingly supplying
unassailably crimson blood to an infinite pores and part of the; symbiotically
breathing form,
The job of the affably twinkling stars perhaps ended; at altruistically granting
compassionate beams of enlightenment; in the heart of the mercilessly
blackened night,
The job of the indomitably unfettered truth perhaps ended; at forever beheading the
cadaverously corrupted coffins of satanically worthless lies,
The job of the harmoniously unadulterated nostrils perhaps ended; at tirelessly
supplying pricelessly ecstatic draughts of life-yielding oxygen; to the penuriously
asphyxiating lungs,
The job of the perpetually beating heart perhaps ended; at promulgating the
beats of Immortally unparalleled love; to the farthest quarter of this limitlessly
proliferating Universe,
But the job of the Parents just doesn’t end at giving birth to the innocuous
infant; just doesn’t end even after harnessing it with their very own blood to face the
acrimonious world outside; just doesn’t end even at equipping it every conceivable
comfort on this Universe; just doesn’t end even after they veritably died; as they
continue to Omnisciently enlighten it from their heavenly abode; far away from the
torturous devil and forever towards the path of amiably synergistic righteousness