Searching…
Place for ourselves
Look for the buried pale belief
Wrapped in religious soil
The life of time does not lay within the myth
Search… away from the gods
So that the way to the neverending would and
Seek in the golden swamps of silence
Keeping water under a sharp cover
Where sick bodies tear apart relief
From the sickness of deliverance our souls run away
-heaven has been always swinging in tears
Searching…
Place for ourselves
Search… away from the gods
Blindness speaks in curses
-In not so gently heavenly looks
So that everything would end
The everliving one weeps, his wings chopped off
And chaos begs the anguish to entangle
-In the loop of everspinning worlds- the elliptical path
Search for a place for ourselves…
…for our souls
