WRITER IN THE STORM
Scars on the soul, strange is the side, too much pain inside.
The wind carries the fall of the leaves to the other side.
How much does it price to get to Paradise?
God give some advice. Because of which vice I pay the price.

The street is long, black is the night, the old song is heard, I will start writing.
Time is wrong, nothing me affright.
The thought is like a gong, my shadow is bright.
I am writing in the storm, this is my battle,
The eagle sang that I was born, I have to stay hustle.
I like to see bees and  sworm, a dark fuddle.
The road is misinform, there is some light at the end of the tunnel.

Lightning creates my light in this deep and dark night.
A thunderous voice will soon be heard, I write, it's my choice.
I listen to the storm, I look wide, that's my thought on the other side.
Maybe I'll become a hero, or just a zero,
                                        Heavenly stars and night sky are my mirror.

In addition to the scar on my soul, I also carry an Orthodox cross.
I've crossed the road a long time ago.
I became my warrior, I broke the barrier.
I do not care about fame, I have my aim,
Knight of poetry is my other name, we are not all the same.

Everything is a bit strange on my way, I'm looking for some bay
I do not know exactly what, say: Something like a doorway in the game,
In the kingdom of peace, but somewhere far away.
Today or tomorrow I will make that sway.

While I write my words there is not a single border,
I am my own warrior and warder, I smoke the thought spark.
When I write, I enter completely, many words are dark,
My written words are my trademark.

It's a deep and inexplicable human destiny. He keeps running for you,
And increasing the intensity.
We have God's legacy, nature, this is something bestly,
You're a weird destiny, you create a diverse biography.