Alone again,
Endless number of trees,
Darkness,
Restlessness,
Old feelings,
The night is coming up
And helplessness with her,
Chiliness,
Smell of the earth
And glare of death.

All has lost its meaning -
Only the silhouettes remain -
Impure and far away.
To be a part of the life cycle of nature,
Nevermore any human hardship.

Necrologue,
Necrologue written in forest.

This is the end,
An utter end,
No shacles of the past exist,
I am the part of infinity.

Immortality is not powerlessness.
I am the most hideous idea,
that was suppressed
And ruined through ages.

I am the infinity,
I am the living death,
The havoc is unbelievably beautiful.

Why is there no mercy
and space for the victors?
Only the vanquished and deformed smiles.
Dreamless nights,
bloody wounds of the invisible crop.
A putrefactive torture,
years and years,
and it still lasts ...
I am not the shadow
of a hungry raven only.
I am not a worthless idea only.

Become absorbed into the sound of silent memories,
An excruciating whisper during the rainy autumnal nights.
A strange sense of anxiety and the unknown doubts,
Obscure shadows of the lost struggles.
Set out for the way through the forest of unholy desires,
Penetrate into the maze of stabbing trees,
Across the river of sludhy whirlpools
And fathomless depths over the omnious lands and poisoned seas.
A return into into the forgotten, ancient times,
Never, never more, never ever,
Perceive the frost of disability and darkness
Those are the desolated areas ...
To accept the unaccaptable fate,
Is there any way out of these forgotten areas?
Only aboard of the ship of dead souls?

When thy way will touch the end suddenly,
A deep abyss of void will show its cruelty,
There is no sign of love
Only the time is and always has been.
Looking back to the light
thou see the way is couvered with ...
With leaves of thine life.
Thou can read now ...
In lunatic eyes of destiny
Feeling the cold of the end
Thou knowest it so good.
How many times have you felt it?
Everytime when the summer
Died before upcoming autumn.
Now that the leaves are gone
And thy last place where thou are not alone,
Cemetary of memories.