In full abundance of the joy,
Earth moves away from Sun/Son.
Colors of l(L)ife're dying away,
All happiness is gone.
World's sharp turn and proud run
Would beat it's feelings numb.
This crucifixion will go on
until the death will come.
Life will be buried under snow,
Guarded by soldier-wind.
On count of three the rise will grow
Of those who still believe.
The rise will grow and overthrow
Cold proudness of men.
And on a quiet April's day
The Spring will come. Amen.
ANNOUNCEMENT - ANNOUNCEMENT: "Close to Home" has moved!! I have consolidated my once divided interests into a single, cohesive, and hopefully more professional package. P...
9 years ago