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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 ...