---

A crystal calm in the corpse of soul
on the edge of the end.
I walk alone through the fields of snow.
I am my only friend.
Sad beams of shadows crawl on the path
to my own winterland.
I can't feel joy and I can't feel wrath.
I've got emotions in hand.

Heat my heart, before I die,
with the fair dust of your smile.
Help me, one last time,
light fire in ice.
Hear some ashes in the air -
these are words of my prayer.
Now I'm so scared of
fading to nowhere.

Clocks without arrows, sleep without dreams,
the final silence of sound.
There are no allies or enemies -
just me in my burial mound.
I wish I could disinfect all tears
you have cried on my ground.
So, if the end justifies the means,
why has my own ark been drowned?

Our avalanche of life
is sliding down the mountain of death.
Few freezing whispers of the fife
are the last song of man's breath.

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