When will this life end?
And the next one start?
The abyss is drawing nearer,
And my life is fading with the wind.
I hear the cries of the wicked.
And see the tears of children.
Are we destined for something else?
Or doomed to float in the eternal dark?
Are we important and almighty,
Or a grain of sand in a desert?
The land they call the Underworld,
Defies every destiny of the universe.
Do the dead dream of the living?