My life dies away.
If they want they slay.
The priest does his rite,
I set off my last flight...
The land smells pleasant.
There is a calm wind above it.
Trees whisper something at the top,
But heavy stone presses it,
Presses on my weak breast.
When he pronounces
Last prayer I shall die!
Right now he is saying this,
But spirit can control time.
Just it is stopping it.
Constant wind is on a hill I stand.
To live is to die!
Death is a dark cave, freedom too.
Even death may die.
What I could I've done.
Now I'm to die!
All is said and done.
I'll never see Earth's sun.
The priest rises cross.
I feel that Land is frost…
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