Mystic is when someone weeps in the dark,
And the sad dark roots knit.
One child is a black mongrel,
Which is about to sweep you.
There are roots in the soul,
There are dust and darkness.
Run away and look at your feet,
Because you are just waiting for silence.
Mystic is when someone weeps in the dark,
And death is waiting for you around the corner.
Black crow tears,
Pointing to your hell.
Mystic is when someone weeps in the dark,
But you are awake and cold.
It was a dream, a simple one.
See you soon - Kalinka
photo: pixabay.com