At the begin the silence
when the doors open wide,
I would turn back and run
but I grope to a singing light.

Procession moves on...
the shouting is over now...
under a burial song
I flow beneath the ground.

Until a deepest spirit
a new sensation takes hold,
like back to a mother's breast,
not a fear, no more cold,
like an unborn not a must...
let me in the hidden land...
where's all rest and dust
and I'll burn in His loving hand.

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