There, the place from nobody returned
too abstract to human desires
it's inevitable, you will burned
Even children, even liars
After we become bunch of dust
life of our blood incomplete
It's a broken existence unjust
It's not stored love, us mistreat.
Incomparably better existence,
which achieved in the greated works
of the spirit in them self-subsistence
of your mind and the secret jerks
century pass and the needed revealed
but the need for eternity overran
sense of joy in creating unsealed
Build your pyramid higher, poor man