Exhumator

Illusions of burial

Exhumator


Illusions of burial

Life is like dome of 
Many colored glass. 
Rising above shining and flashing 
Until death does not chopping 
It's turned into remains those, what before 
Was supreme creation of god 
Didn't touched the only one 
What is intractable to alteration in time 
Does not turning to ashes 
And completely belongs to creator 
Our soul, it's like a mirror 
Mirror the lighted photo of soul 
The souls are moving as mirrors 
Along the burning conveyor of life 
Going away into immortality 
To raise new dome 
And repeat all circles again 
The illusion of burial 
Loosed the irrevocable your mind 
Can't understand more, 
Recalling about past 
You're transferring into present 
With still large sufferings about future. 
Wiping all sides and destroying the obstacles 
Standing out of you charge of energy 
Called life 
Is great and capable 
Turned into dust 
If death on its path ...