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< Misha Campfires



At the junction of frozen worlds,

Dreaming of mercy

Trying to make a move

The length from death to birth.

Trying to make a move,

As far as possible,

But each of us gets

in my point of falshi-

Fall in a hundred walls

Freaked time,

Thinking about yourself,

Tired of being a prisoner.

Freed from sleep

Sweet shackles,

Painfully recovering,

Getting paint full awakening.

Cry. Remote groan.

At the junction of the worlds - the shadow demons

Stagnation around the table ...

Rather there! In free from the shackles

Dreamers a dying tribe.

At the junction - dance of shadows,

Intertwining whips,

Entering chromosomes in blood

Tear flesh

Since its countdown ...

Creek. The cacophony of sounds.

This unknown world leaned,

doctor hands raised,

Mother bent over you.

Catastrophe?

Do not cry, baby,

It is perishable and temporary

We will wait for you

At the time of thy coming,

We will explain to you the secret meaning,

Circular motions

And you make a new step

Long from death to birth.