That was an unusual, golden autumn... The breath of a wind was gliding Cemetery's avenues with the ocean Of constantly falling leaves The trees were dying plaintively Crooning their last threnody; They have been whispering the names We all wouldn't like to remember…
And then he came without saying a word Slowly sat down and lighted ever-burning fire ''For whom?'' - I have asked ''For myself…'' - he has answered And streams of strange voices suddenly came down
He pulled out a rope and tied round his neck Stood up on a chair and silently nod his head to me I came a bit closer and looked at his face, asking him: ''Why?''
''Because this world doesn't need me anymore The human mankind became self-dependent As notion of good and evil Has got new, conscious meanings Paradise has not been lost As it has never truly existed As well as original sin, heaven and hell Or other fictitious worlds… That all has been made-up to rule, rape and kill, To chain human's power, passion and will''
''Pray for quick death, You son of a bitch! Now You feel taste of vendetta!!!'' I spat on his face and hardly kicked the chair…?