1. |
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My steps to nowhere, I go to the void,
There’s no way to nowhere, having tricked the fate.
Life is just a track of vagabond souls,
No place for them to rest in its jail.
Kali Ma Kali Ma
Aum Sri
Paramaha Kali Ma
Namah Jayam
A blind man’s way directs to nowhere,
To nowhere – with no beginning, without the end.
Death is eternal, dream with an indestructible snare.
The world’s buried with fallen leaves of flam.
Kali Ma Kali Ma
Aum Sri
Paramaha Kali Ma
Namah Jayam
To nowhere all words, dreams to nowhere as well,
Scattered to nowhere the ashes of love.
Anger is buried, the fear passed away,
The eyes’ narrow pupils see no more time.
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2. |
NIDRA - Prisoner
08:01
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The chamber is empty. It’s lonely, cold, damp.
Chains are joined in fetters on hands.
Eyes ‘re closed, eyelids ‘re poured by lead.
I dream I’m inside – on the prison bed.
His shackles became rusted on weak withered wrists.
I feel my body’s heaviness – it squeezed all from within.
He silently eats food, and, having curled up, silently sleeps.
And only separation torments, pain pierces with arrows.
Drowse in unconsciousness – I am imprisoned with him.
He appears rarer in my mind. Increasingly, I’m alone.
Daylight decreases in long nights of melancholy.
Hours turned to days. Thoughts’ sorrow gnaws.
Prisoners in this body, we are completely strange.
I am stiff-limbed and mute, when he looks outside.
Releasing me, my dream turns off my mind,
Looking at the man behind the prison bars.
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3. |
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The stuck lifetime is the violet chasm,
It helplessly attracts and whispers to the soul: "Wake up!" –
As a poured echo – don’t follow this path.
The Universe gist is the void – find yourself, drink an envenomed cup!
Blood thickens there, becoming the river of mud,
Pus gets into blood vessels through infected flows.
Venomous oxygen tears the membrane layer apart.
Behind the matter layer, the dark is generated by the void.
The void is the bottom’s back,
“Tomorrow” won’t be, “yesterday” doesn’t exist.
There is nothing else, only a dream.
Having found himself, a blind began to see,
Having submerged in vortex depths.
A sighted one is also the blind,
Sinking like a stone – day in and day out.
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4. |
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We woke up in the adult winter, we grew old.
How is that? There was childhood’s summer last night…
Maybe we were in coma, being wayward in mind?
Or, just as everyone, we vanished in the infancy loop?
Scarecrow crookedness in a herd is set by a dog,
Which is eating the good days of dreams
And impressions’ infinite pleasure,
Covering all of this with grief mold over the years.
We don’t exist anymore, but it seems we do! So, who we are?
In perishable skins, slowly going to death.
And there is only way out – only to accelerate,
Having thrown the killed one’s chains on the wharf.
But nobody said that the hopes are void.
This world is misbirth, if it is quite inane,
In little bodies, underdeveloped ones at different phases
Outcast children remain in pain.
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5. |
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The god-mutilated vessel is full of suffering...
It torments infinitely the flesh and bones...
A night runaway is full of desired offerings...
In the leaf fall forest, he wants them to dethrone...
He was eager to be bound closer to forest trees...
Lit up by the flowers of these bright autumn days...
Swinging branches beneath night winds...
He forgot ‘bout negligibility of his own substance...
He tried to find himself ‘mong desolate spaces...
The autumn nature filled his mind with pain...
But his mind and body’s eternal contentions...
Bore to the world only leprosy and hexes’ stain...
He’s been looking for his place in the world for so long...
He became sour, but could forget the passing of time...
And the autumn flashed ‘tween a tree’s branches...
Leaving him in cold snow to get stiffed and covered with rime...
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6. |
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Having begun to hate this world, he went without looking back,
Having kept vain attempts of offenses he bore his heart in his chest,
And with every step his heart was about to break.
His gaze is hidden by grief’s shade,
A rusting lock was hung up at his heart,
And trying to forget he got migraine,
He couldn’t stay here, being eager to depart.
The road ahead is called as solitude,
It warmed his soul with calm.
No more his life’s poor attitude –
It’s all the same that people made him run.
Having begun to hate this world, he went without looking back,
Having kept vain attempts of offenses he bore his heart in his chest,
And with every step his heart was about to break.
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7. |
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Having cognized your grief once,
You couldn’t find a creature more intimate.
The dialog won’t seize your thirst for solitude,
In the dead of night, you’ll have to admit this trait.
Having lost your affection you lose little,
Just a soul particle that gave in.
Tortures, pain – the only kind of its spittle,
But you’ll cognize grief’s depth in your own skin.
Having seized the heart, the grief ‘ll settle there,
And change the soul bit by bit, step by step,
Relieve you from unwanted problems. With care
It will endow with meaning of life without any crap.
Losing particles, you find much more,
Having found oblivion in wind bursts,
Way extension turned to be longer, for sure,
Than the earthly life ‘mong people with ends and odds.
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