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Life is like dome of

 Many colored glass.

 Rising above shining and flashing

 Until death does not chopping

 It's turned into remains those, what before

 Was supreme creation of god

 Didn't touched the only one

 What is intractable to alteration in time

 Does not turning to ashes

 And completely belongs to creator

 Our soul, it's like a mirror

 Mirror the lighted photo of soul

 The souls are moving as mirrors

 Along the burning conveyor of life

 Going away into immortality

 To raise new dome

 And repeat all circles again

 The illusion of burial

 Loosed the irrevocable your mind

 Can't understand more,

 Recalling about past

 You're transferring into present

 With still large sufferings about future.

 Wiping all sides and destroying the obstacles

 Standing out of you charge of energy

 Called life

 Is great and capable

 Turned into dust

 If death on its path ...