Cowardice...
Sacrifice...
Too young to die,
too good to lie,
but still I hold the dice,
because of cowardice...
"What if I fail?" But there's no reality.
Only fragments of broken mentality.
Spirituality, immortality...
Blah-blah-blah!
Who is the dreamer anyway? Are we really in the God's dream?
Or things are indeed not what they seem?
Babylon tower, languages shattered.
So I have to make my brain work hard, just to say something.
And still my words are scattered...
I leave, need to rest more to say more. Zug-zug (orcish).
P.S. Kalinka-malinka, Moskva, babooshka... Just leave my izbooshka
