In front of her megalomania we all do feel equal and marginal while being constantly expecting of her to come and cover us with still waters, frozen subsoil

Her breath blows with bone marrow piercing cold, and flowers are fading away right before her presence, and the idea of her being somewhere close makes you feel doomed right prior to your terrible end

Creature hardships’ fetters are her faithful servants, they sing of eternity and unworthy mortals – know your days are unfortunately finished

Like a faithful shadow she wanders silently and supervises your metamorphosis, as if she knows how and where your end is going to be arranged

Always staying behind, how often does she is interrupt the enjoyment from your life

Despite the disappointment favoured by our transmutations, she also stimulates internal flame contained inside this weak body of yours

Last breath is a final date of burning human soul – how gentle services of her are indeed

The breath is yours just like flame that fades away over time you think your life is eternal– but there is no afterlife for sure, so no self-deception, please

Its careful death, no deception, please

She will enlighten the path you are struggling to follow day by day, making each mentioned day filled with sense and meaning

So yes, she will accept you all, wordless and blindly crying into its dark and everlasting embrace, and folds shall be opened solemnly into the palace of silence

Payment for your precious life cannot be escaped, her reward for you being alive shall be death