The tears of a child, the pain of a mother! A heart full of memories of a dead father! Here's so much sorrow, in every eye.  Nothing but hurt left here,  Nothing but bullets, pain, misery and shattered dreams …. Yet for the children of  world only one equation counts: their shared humanity.

We will gather together as brothers, We will gather together as brothers. and we will live in solidarity with others in this world, we are the thirsty souls of a world without divisions. If we merge mercy with might and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change, our children's birth right. Let's step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid and don't trust any immortalist. The dove will find a resting place!

Everything is an illusion
The baby birds live on my balcony
I sleep there too--my confusion
I read Julio Cortazar
I shop at local Bazar
I dress at the second hand store I drink
in the park
Nothing can be more pretentious
but I fully embark
my emptiness, my fullness and my despair
I sleep on the coach, and I sleep on the chair.
I read many books and I know many words
nothing can be more sinful than serving two gods
Yes, I am so unusual but I am boring too
The Immortalist is in my purse
He is my king Tutahkhamun for the night
he is my curse
my interplanet flight
I drink *****. I am turning hands,
and I am burning my gods.
I am burning my guts.
I am making fans
Nothing can be more pretentious than
to die alone
Sunday Minsk, and despair
and I sleep alone...in the chair...