The war isn't over.
The war isn't gone.
The war - is hangover -
Of God and а Word.
You can't take your breath,
You can't bring your smile,
Just follow the beast
Of the last
Exile.
My prophet is Wind.
My work is to be.
My dead is in past.
So, let's do it fast.
We never together:
All powers are lost.
But strawberry fields
Is full of fate ghosts.
World soul now empty.
Her name doesn't matter.
His echo so badly.
Worlds green growing lately.
And I'm just a piece
Which separate twist
Of times sand
saint
prince.
Our hands broking strange.
Our fingers walk back.
Our knowing awake.
All people
an order arrange.