The fire burns me down,
like a phoenix i rise from the ashes. Newborn and created for the new world, to carry what was layed in my hands. Occult is the salvation. Misty is the way of god. To believe without a knowledge, to trust beeing in belief. To let everything go and to die. Not suffer in the grief of the cremation. To be still. To wait and to serve... for the will of the skies. To rise as a bird over the own disability over the agonies of the pain, over the own abyss.
I LIVE... I LOVE... I AM... Amen

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