Rippling gods have sat down on their
shapeless thrones in the numbness
voids in eternal time of endless space
Deserted prayer wanders away (from)
hopeless mind like my spirit cries
in agonies and stamina
Crawling cosmos silence from
the trones above the clamed cloudes of deep blue sky
I can't hear myself !
Am I really here or do the cosmos mirrors
reflect my forms of cosmos silence.