Funeral of God

That was an unusual, golden autumn...

The breath of a wind was gliding

Cemetery's avenues with the ocean

Of constantly falling leaves

The trees were dying plaintively

Crooning their last threnody;

They have been whispering the names

We all wouldn't like to remember…

And then he came without saying a word

Slowly sat down and lighted ever-burning fire

''For whom?'' - I have asked

''For myself…'' - he has answered

And streams of strange voices suddenly came down

He pulled out a rope and tied round his neck

Stood up on a chair and silently nod his head to me

I came a bit closer and looked at his face, asking him: ''Why?''

''Because this world doesn't need me anymore

The human mankind became self-dependent

As notion of good and evil

Has got new, conscious meanings

Paradise has not been lost

As it has never truly existed

As well as original sin, heaven and hell

Or other fictitious worlds…

That all has been made-up to rule, rape and kill,

To chain human's power, passion and will''

''Pray for quick death, You son of a bitch!

Now You feel taste of vendetta!!!''

I spat on his face and hardly kicked the chair…?