Withered senses like the dead flowers Apathy for life in material world The perception of truth through pain is inevitable Through the long years, passing the thorny ways Returning to the initial point To the archetype of the shadow of my essence The time yet has not come to open wide the eyes To release the restless forgotten spirit From behind the mask of goodessence Bringing legitimate evil, pure hatred Let the false human morality sink in the bog… What is beyond space and time What is eternity and the absolute What cannot be perceived by the mind What brings no happiness What is called What cannot die…