He said:
"You will die when the time comes, not earlier"
This is his will and let this be
I am the grain of sand, a little worm in the world's eyes; and it depends on me only
What will happen
You ask me where my human pride had gone
I put it between the portraits of the animals, for the bible
Is matchless in myths and tales only
I renounce my humanity
For me this word has different taste.
I look for a situation when I could execute my nature and evolution
The vision of the being as a vase is an utopy
The soul is designed to make the body enliven the weak idea
The body is designed to make the idea take root in the soul
Like a grain in a generous soil
Another light actuates my plans, another ways I walk looking for happiness
It's unreal to be the toy order and harmony when you're the chaos in your eyes