| Alone with the questions
|
| An outcast for many years
|
| He has seen those marble archways
|
| And the avenue of crimson tears
|
| Now shadows are staring at him
|
| But he turns his face away
|
| They remind him of his true self
|
| Gone with the first winter day
|
| Yesterday’s like a dream
|
| And tomorrow’s like a mirage
|
| When’s the time to get eternal rest?
|
| When’s the endless roaming over?
|
| His frequent groans were only
|
| Silent whispers in the whirlwind
|
| He ended up in this timeless race
|
| Just for his father’s sins
|
| On his father’s grave he swore:
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| «I'll accomplish your endless task»
|
| But his wings were burnt by the sunlight
|
| And his mirth hiding behind the mask
|
| Then he heard the stentorian noise
|
| Beyond the mountains
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| The ancient coronach of flora and fauna
|
| He remembered an old gnostic tale
|
| Of the coruscating crystal of tranquility
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| He had travelled through time
|
| Seen the runes of the light and the dark
|
| He found the answer to his questions
|
| «How to free his chained heart»
|
| The eternal one can finally rest
|
| He is one of the mortals now
|
| The beauty of the crystal glowing
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| And his eyes shining with it, somehow |