It's a dream again.
It's a life again.
But is it a life?
Or it is a fantasy,
A wish to turn desirable
Into reality?
But it seems to be cruel.
There is no that wonderful
Night which I admired
So much,
I only see thickening darkness,
And gloom which
Is approaching.
But what is it?
It is coming after me
To seize me forever,
Because I'm not
The first and
By no means the last
Who has believed
In all this.
It has come,
It orders me.
For the first time in my life
I have brought my thoughts
Desires and dreams together
And the voice of my
Internal being,
The voice of my soul,
Outburst of emotions
And thoughts has prayed for mercy and rest.
All my being resisted,
Telling Him:
I can't. I don't want.
I won't.
But nobody heard my entreaty,
The voice of my soul
Faded in to the night.
In response there was
Only a terrible
Cold roar of the dark, silent,
Ruthless night,
The roar of the alien's mind:
“You Must...!”
He can only rule
There wasn't a sign of compassion,
In him.
It was a cold, callous and angry cry,
Of that night that had inspired me once.
Night that had taken me away
To another world,
Where I had to stay,
But to stay as a slave,
Where I would be forever on fire
And damn this life, existence, this dream.
