The one who has to be born,
He already exist in the world,
and he will be tight up on Earth
tired and old.
And we will kill him,
but very slow,
with refine torture,
to stop loving us,
to take away our hopes,
to see that in all our experiences of
Cataclysm's
Life mud is up to neck,
and we can't get out of mud
until last farewell is said
To our yesterday mistakes.

We are often victims of our own entangled
Misfortune.
Who is stealing my keys to unlock the door of my fortune?
And death is strangling us around neck,in our mind,
in fears,crazy -passion,
Entangling in self we fall victims
To see hook for hanging
In it's own desires.

Oh dream,sweet dreams
also caries lunatic in his brilliance;
Dream of undying Love,
Dream of undying Loyalty,
doesn't always find man in Man strong
To carry out what he wish for
In another.

Yesterday mistakes
some times gets knitted in present
when awakening old wound,
Self sacrifices also discovers Selfish reasons,
To remind us of our highest position
in the lowest scores...

Don't give yourself fully,
don't attached yourself to things,
you will find the death of feelings in Pain.

Who is walking with me at night like shadow?
Does man carry self in himself to win his awakening?
Much selfishness is entangled with old sorrow that cries;
To run free...
To be understood,to be comforted with care,
But dark is stronger when given week hand.
And perhaps the only hand we need stronger,
Is our own,in balanced thoughts
Flushed with sun,
Accepting our-self,
And find reason - without reason to laugh,
When getting dirty in mud.