In it all are equal
None is greater than the other
The rich do not triumph the poor
Nor the skinny man the fat man
In it all is meaningless
The lakes do not sparkle
Nor the trees rustle
In it all is colourless
The sky is no bluer than the pebble
And the grass may as well be grey
In it resides no happiness
How could there be, with no music or laughter?
How could there be, with no beats for the dancer?
In it there is no conflict, no wars among men
All are the same under this realm of darkness