Žen autumn ritual

Present moments of my words
Heroic face is noble mask
Dark passage is opening
In mouth of silent celebration


In realm of deep decadence
Doubts are transparent
In written words of zen monk
Music is floating in spheres



Tropic autumn is burning
In fields of rotten crops
Falling ashes leafes with flames
On smoking grounds of death



I am naked in mist of rivers
Nocturnal character of oblivion
Gentle Japanese crane's wings
Covering mine real emotions