Miserable

To be guide for light the our way 
Pull and take our pains and our illness bodies 
The winged doors of the autumned land jingled of Prasia 
The morning was alone and silent except raining 
First,the time gone fast 
Evening it was inertand the last,gone back 
Remains only hands and eyes 
To be guide for light the our way 
Pull and take our pains and our illness bodies 
the spear shadows,fall in your heart 
And the mud rivers,will take away your fears to the far 
the propellers alight his heart.