To stars and suns we carry To superhumans names in stone Into the depths of seas of grand desires To the thought pure, into nothingness Limitless solitude without numbers and names Where names a curse no longer are The ideal one- the true number of man The sick stench of crowded dogs With their eyes closed That are looking into others for gods Rotting millions keeping guard Of their own truths which you cannot see A many-headed worm of names uncounted Is eating its tail in wretched self-hatred Blinded millions on the road to death The hunger of self-destruction always defeats Raise your gaze- you can`t You won`t- it`s easier to follow the herd You suck on an empty bag of words You fulfill yourself in a cage Of your own blindness Carry me, my wings of hatred Above the fear of knowing all other I want to see my very own death
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