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In a circle, hand in hand, Seven Beasts begin the game,
All the Seven'd turn to One and The Ring divides the sum
And the very each of them has the seven rings to wear.
Splitted into two halves each, they are wandering somewhere,
Seven creatures – magic beasts are forgetting their magic,
Losing words of wise Chimeras, Seven Beasts reflect in mirrors,
Seeing faces of their own in the glass, which has no soul,
And the tapping of the spoons is regarded as a call.
Frightened, sticking to each other, they inverted “MMO” to “OM”,
Living monotonous years on the way from work to home.
Living just for their hope, they rely on their own faith,
Try to overturn the world and forget about themselves.
Seven mystic Beasts are searching for supporting from The Six,
Being mocked and played tricks, every Beast tries to remember
Till the last days of his life Labyrinth with its great Pattern
Policeman or homeless tramp, or the robber full of guilt –
An agreement, signed by spirits, is the thing by which they’re sealed.
And no matter – was it signed by the Death or Wish to Live,
Since that moment Beasts can never make the Power be retrieved.
And the Labyrinth’s still turning green-blue planet, and again
Runs around the stars forever, Planet which is called The Game.


Дмитрий "Etlau" Овчинников | Просмотров: 610 | Добавил: Etlau | Дата: 04.06.2009 | Комментарии (0)

Brother, have you seen hell in the empty dark worlds,
Have you heard violins play slow sounds?
Have you seen dancing wolves on the piles of white bones,
Bitter smiles of men wearing shrouds?
Have you ever bequeathed your dream to gray grass,
Have you sung anthems, waiting for fight,
Drying up in the rain…
Have you asked the heat in the desert,
In your prayer of fright?
Have you covered the God from the sin to be done,
Or been counting blossoming flowers;
Never mind – in bad centuries that now are gone
We will never again find each other.
We will never know light of the parties of fun,
Won’t be free to sit at one table…
And to burn over goddamn bottle of wine – 
That's the end of all weak-people-fables.
But to fly over grave of the vanity and 
Not to fall down – that is a question,
That’s the great lot of those who are finally free,
That is our eternal great passion.

Дмитрий "Etlau" Овчинников | Просмотров: 468 | Добавил: Etlau | Дата: 04.06.2009 | Комментарии (2)

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