When I Curse Fate, It's Not Me,

For A Country Without A Past Is Nothing, A Word That, Hardly Spoken, Loses Its Meaning, A Perishable Wall Destroyed By Flame, An Echo Of Animal Emotions.

And Now I Am Ready To Keep Running When The Sun Rises Beyond The Borderlands Of Death. I Already See Mountain Ridges In The Heavenly Forest Where, Beyond Every Essence, A New Essence Awaits.

When I Curse Fate, It's Not Me, But The Earth In Me.

Evil Grows And Bears Fruit, Which Is Understandable, Because It Has Logic And Probability On Its Side And Also, Of Course, Strength. The Resistance Of Tiny Kernels Of Good, To Which No One Grants The Power Of Causing Far-reaching Consequences, Is Entirely Mysterious, However. Such Seeming Nothingness Not Only Lasts But Contains Within Itself Enormous Energy Which Is Revealed Gradually.

Grow Your Tree Of Falsehood From A Small Grain Of Truth.