Stone of olden ages in the eye’s pupil of sculptor of perfectness Spectre of creation hangs above him, soaking into himself Everything was here before and everything was somewhere written Stories with faded face of truth are becoming legends...
Small demon of tumult slowly caught his breath And showed me the depths of abyss of doubt and disbelief Closed windows are silent challenge to open them agape Light will fill the depths of fear of our unconsiousness
Vault of heaven in gleaming night Principle of creation is falling on us We snatch the Muse in clear desire To become prime movers of conception
She’s in springs of irascible thoughts When dusk is nesting in ruins of walls Assaults memoried souls, resides in recluse’s heart And hidden truth impels us to action
Everyday I discover something new and it multiplies my desire for knowledge Each gulp urges bigger hunger – infinite choice of chances ...while exhausted mind wanders on mosaic of ideas Muses always uncover to chosen one only a few pieces of stones
Vault of heaven in gleaming night Principle of creation is falling on us We snatch the Muse in clear desire To become prime movers of conception
The one who held inside indestructable energy Knows that time ruins only mortal beauty