Having closed the door, they are staying on the path to Mort.
This road lay with black cobble-stones, disappears in foggy distance.
Small cold drops of rain are falling from gray funeral sky,
rolling down of their clothes into splits among the stones.
Rocks, drowning deep in mist, on their slopes seldom trees suffer their lives.
Reality, embraced with rainfull essence.
Impaling thorns, an epilogue
Fall into abyss, an epilogue
Narrow bridge through the river of oblivion. They are looking down,
but not seeing their reflections. The river slow and silent brings
lifeless waters from the valley of grief. Like shadows they follow the road,
which leads them to the top of the highest rock. Now staying at the
gates of Mort.
"The first step into darkness
Death wounds you
But the second step into darkness
Only for the strengths opens the immortality"
