Theatre of Illusion, Slaves of alienation, It has long been with them flew Ashes hopes.
In their veins rusty Long time no movement, In peeling off their flesh It has long been empty.
The breath of the reaper, His power is our weakness, Merged ruins of hearts.
misty wall In moments of despair Wrapped in wax imaginary hopes.
And the main actor Parched mouth, Rattle of inactivity In the throes of feelings Interprets the poem unfulfilled dream, The last instruction of the way.