Paleness of swollen eyes, staring into the mist;
Colours and shapes, mixed in the picture of dream.
Tired limbs, broken will to persist:
Flock of people is marching away downstream.
Hail the purifying flame.
Wrinkles of pressing past, deeply cut in the face;
Broken thoughts, washed away by the rain.
Getting used to being last in the race:
Meet yourself in the mirror and bow to the game.
Hail the purifying flame.
