I am not afraid of death, I am afraid of myself of things that are left the way they are and the way they should have been before not cleared by the same word
times start to have a distinct scent of fear challenging each other under the blood clouds nothing is like it used to be a beast slides through silent soul
I am not afraid of ages, I am afraid of mountain there is not enough space left in round thoughts when old stones growing in bones slowly press me under the mountain crypt