Mystic view: The end of life

when yesterday is gone

and it seems there's no hope

where wild roses grow

my tears will fall in the next forest rain 

burning flames will kill the deer

and blood will flood a new land

ghosts of the past are coming fast

the bird isn't singing anymore

wolfs are arriving

smelling meat of frustration

slashing fangs are searching

new faces to soft

death black cape

is crawling through the snow

it seems like real death

can not scape form his destiny 

while nebulas are vibring

there in the mystic sky

little babies will born

from south of heaven

hearts are breaking

souls are melting

nobody cares nobody waits

we can't pretend

being another breathing machine

there is no more time for us

angels will turn off the light

burying our corpses

in ancient lands

our eyes will scream

just for another second of life

Nuwanda Mac Brádaigh Ó Faoláin.