In the sugar-coated motion of everyday life,
The crystallized lips--they do not speak.
Passers-by look distorted through the looking glass.
A little like: Looking at Life like a Chagall painting.
Stripping life down to the mere basics,
Letting the old spirits float around you.
The sound of the rain hitting the window pane,
And the wind howling with the wish to enter.
Remind you how Life is in its actuality.
Ready to take you up on a moment's notice.
And not let go of you: Till the eyes are sunken,
And the smiles are gone, the bones jutting through.
Till the dreams die and the soul fades.
Life takes the twinkle of eyes and the dimples.
And promises nothing, but the precious gift of Death.
For Death is reality and Life a mere illusion,
However ghastly she may be!