The smell, of wet soil, carries my mind to a distant place To a dark moment of my existence Lying in dust, while a stone is forming in the way Hiding me from myself, burning my hands and clouding my vision Overwhelmed by frustration and apathy, digging in the dirt Through grief I wander, walking among emotional ends In an endless lethargy, misfortune is the cornerstone of my agony Ever-present, omnipresent All this life is an oppressive place... As walking among shtrobs towards nothingness Smothering, meaningless Somberly suffocating... In a total lack of sanity, in a total rejection It's a tortuous stretch, a ciclic gloom A desolate path among sad meditations A vicious circle with no way out