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The last resort, we all come to
The time we're breathless, in the coffin
Who knows anything of that
Let them, explain, the sullen trophy
The essence of existence
And longer how, to live
They also, maybe know
I wish i met and saw the all of them
Asked in a wildy voice and tried
Anything at least, to learn
What all this for
Inheritance of corpses
There, below
Let them not hide, but come to us
Appear vividly before our eyes
Please, shed the light, upon our enigmatic life
As does the Sun, on perfect, cloudless days
Disclosing dark spots, shadows
Other tricky winding
Wicked, mystical, and strange
Horrid sometime
Ways
Appeared not?
Let all them wholely die out!
Let the Sun
Shining
Straight
Upon
Our stupid heads
And make them
Sober
Like those of the inspirited
Blood coloured flags of the Sovjets
They should have had stayed
As our Last Resort
As if some tribe, of marathony runners
Especially with, those hammer-sickle banners