A-walking through a burial ground
as autumn’s bleak winds buffet me,
I hear plainchant that makes no sound
come from a church behind bare trees.

As I wade through seas of fallen leaves
that blanket tombs of fallen folk,
the whitewashed church’s lichened eaves
are loosely draped like a priestly cope.

Behind the church’s wooden door
comes silence sounding out a song.
Its words unsaid, no rigid score,
to the whirlwind this primal hymn belongs.

Well fortified by thick stone walls
a-quarried from the craggy heart
of this carved earth’s basalt halls,
this house still plays its sacred harp.

For though someday the sun will rise
above this temple’s gaping ruin,
its oaken rafters open to the skies,
there will go on the formless tune

whose notes compose creation’s tale
that’s told unwritten in lettered fire.
In my lungs I breathe the words
to join someday the hidden choir.

With that, this door did not lead inside
that bastion built for worshipping.
Her song instead had opened wide
my spirit for all this life will bring.

Glimpses of the wind that carries
your breath into the sleepless distance.
The emotions of the stars -
their rust-colored eyes
no longer see future.

The skies, stripped of their blueness,
are today only sadness,
an uncertain journey to existence.

I dreamed of an omnipresent time -
I meticulously defended nearby bodies,
I pretended that my own heart
was not due to me.

The embryo of humanity stirs within me -
hope fades, loyalty to freedom perishes.
The airiness of longing hides from
me the whisper with which
I dared to adorn my thoughts.

I am too sleepless to be born
without doubt. I raise my own world
from my knees - it is not far from here
to the last heaven.

I am only a favor for which it is worth
shining piously. I would like to create
my own paradise in you.

Unknown cities. Summarized sentences,
none of which exist
as a question. I am here
to awaken the night in you - too far away
to think about reality.

The present? Who thinks about it?
Is this another illusion?
Or maybe the exchange of answers
was too vigorous?

Pray on your conscience - the cloud,
entangled in your dreams, is a prelude
to the apocalypse. I would like to revive
memory, but I know:
a cry chases silence.

I came into existence to draw
the penultimate dawn in you.
I was born amidst desires, none of which
match your gaze.

I delight in the solemn present;
I watch from all sides of the world
this one needle through whose eye
my complaint about
the local wind escapes.

I wanted to get lost in life, but the reserves
of solitude were exhausted,
desire got lost.

Tired, ruined mornings,
when your shadow looks at itself
in a broken mirror.
The tree, bending under
the weight of forbidden fruit,
shivers, blown by a foreign breeze.

Lack of sleep -
your happiness
is an excuse. What good is it
that future has lied to me,
when insomnia is so blissful?

Here is another sold tear - its night
is not conducive
to the presence of stars.
I failed at the introduction
to the autobiography.
I got lost in light - the unknown
was heralding;
I got lost in an existence
that still protests, fights to lose.

The touch is shapeless, aimed straight
at the heart. I renounce the last greeting -
I am here to remain you.

Clouds, fawning at the feet,
bring an end to eternity, give hope
to the one who has despaired
of memory.

I have built my own private meaning
with the help of light.
I have decorated sinful thoughts
with words - I wish to dedicate
them to you.

What to choose: closeness of the heart
or distance of the soul?
The experiences are obscure,
defective, unwanted.
I try to find you among
the few heartbeats - you disappear
before eternity is seen.

My crooked conscience, the struggle
for joy - these are just a handful
of coincidences, a few tears
that I have given to the needy.

Don't be too sinful - I have found you,
although another era has passed,
and the light has become
too long a shadow.

I will fall asleep before
you manage to find the right time;
I will perish as long as
I feel the aftertaste of your longing.

After a graduation, it's mostly mirthlessness for an introverted young guy interested mainly in music, English, movies & videogames. During this time, he makes his first steps at rhyming. Looking from the present, he's not satisfied with the most of the material indited by him in the first 2 years of this hobby. At some point during that time, he also starts to get immersed into sociopolitical stuff & as he spends time reading & watching respective materials, his views get established, but anger, being a reaction on injustices he discovers, starts to settle inside him as well.

At some point after that, he gets an occupation. During that period of occupation lasting a few years, his mirthlessness & anger increase. During a more than 2,5-year period after the barbaric invasion ordered by the underdisbanded north-east empire's dastardly autocrat with state security & criminal backgrounds, being under the influence of mostly his views, anger, spite, but also mirthlessness & escapistic fantasies, the guy indites his best lyrical works becoming, lyrics-wise, an antiauthoritarian-minded antihero, for the most part.

Anger, high-octane music, among which his main choice during those few years has been vicious techno-like bangers, the meticulous & sometimes pleasant process of inditing lyrics along with rereading them afterwards, & movies rich on drama, violence, & dread has been keeping his melancholic side somewhat at bay, more or less. But now, it's crossroads, which makes him want to disappear, to escape from reality even more.

You dream fiercely, so that no one
will hold it against you.
You trust, although you know
that your heart will fall silent
at any moment.

A new decalogue is spreading
within you,
according to which you will write
a more beautiful introduction
to this anonymous autobiography.

One day,
your heart will remember you;
we will have the impression
that fear brings us love.

A star has settled on your eyelashes -
green like the first dream
about you, sold to God.
I don't remember the last time
I was so similar to you;
how close your tears, laughter, breath
or heartbeat were to me.

I knew that you were moving
within me, that you were dreaming
and shining,
even though I had renounced the world.

Somewhere at the bottom,
chaos lurks, too ruthless
to cheat freedom.
I fight, although both my hands
are bare.

I live, although life has abandoned
me many times.
The last kiss sparkles within me -
given with premeditation,
so that the sky would bloom,
the earth would awaken.

Let's talk about the silence
that tries to overcome the pain.
Let's try to tame freedom
so that peace
can take its place.

Let's not close
the last window behind us - a body
that is slowly dying
is a great excuse to give up.

I carefully count
your freshest tears - I know they exist
only to quench your longing.
Entrusted to the wrong sky,
I rock in the embrace
of the earth, close to fulfillment.

I don't want to replace
paradise for you - I will return
before the final blow falls
asleep in me.

The fist of your heart leaves
saturated shapes,
thoughts without their own words.
I leave time far behind.
I am leaving an eternity
for which there is no point
in starting another day.

Please, defeat the silence in me
that does not allow me to love.
Free me from faith;
for it I can give my life
into good hands.

Covered with black breath,
I beg for a sip
of the past,
for one poor sip of comfort.

I sense a truth that has no memory
attached to it. Terrified by my own heart,
I try to find the right future for you.

My illusions, filling your victorious time,
today resemble dried tears,
words covered with
a thick layer of dust.

I would like to fall asleep
so that the future would return
my desires. I hide in the fifth corner
of my heart; one day you will fall before
the border of a whisper.

I will experience a fear
that has never been loved in solitude.
I've gotten used to the dream -
it will soon come to an end.

I will reach the threshold of paradise,
if only you will understand I loved too soon.
Thoughts are just giving birth
to words - very poor, ossified
and selfish.

It will turn out that you are an illusion,
hidden beyond the borders
of humanity, under the eyelid of time.

I'm coming back, even though light
finds this different horizon.
I am here, although life
sold me at a bargain price.

I see no signes of tears,
I do not know where their shadows
have gone.

I sway on this black wave
of existence, I seek solace
in the scent of hope.

I do not want to look for flaws
of future. There's a wind
blowing inside me
that can't be satisfied with
one maudlin sigh, one lost look.

In love with your past, I am trying
to wake you up from
this long sleep.
I flee from my own loneliness.
I dedicate this farewell to you,
so that you may understand
how much silence is needed to
soothe the sky,
to placate the earth.

The sentence here is unfortunate -
reflections of love
no longer bring remorse.
I slam the door to heaven again.
I open the window to hell.