death

     All the roads of life end in death.

      The one who did not understood that his time's root supports his life tree was born in vain.

 However much we would adore the past it will forever die in the future with us.

    Of how much light will my destiny's eyes have to become aware until it will come true in death?

     The leaves of hopes which have destined words in the body of the thought have settled to the ground. This is the world.

  We are a dream of a thought which lives trough the Word.

    We are a dream of a thought which lives trough the Word.

   Who can hide himself from death or who can embrace the wind?

    Does somebody know why the consciousness of death has to die?

  Nobody has ever been beyond his own Illusion of Life.