I am immortal
like the water that ever flows
down the top of the mountain surrounded by white smoke
only the shining veil of the night
that roams in this forsaken forests
at the end of the world
suspended over the silent abyss,
glittering like glow worms
on the face of a red sun
a cataract of magma and heat
smiling in front of the milk road
that takes us away and leaves us far,
deep inside the forest of the archangels
in dark corridors, where the webs of illusion spring
from every chrysalis rapped up in wires
white and pure
like the fangs of mother earth
that devour our immortal idols every day...