Macrocosm

Somewhere in space in a large

crystal skull at the base of floats

it is a microcosm of what, if

macrocosm of the swallows

all sense of humanity?

Ahmin information, and it pours

through my head, whether it's in vain.

My dreams are like the sand grains

the arms of sinful man.

The reality and the lies weave

network micro cosmos like.

At last frost arrived

Joensuu on the street, is not it yet

here to live for a long time left.

So fickle is the year

rotation, languid is the Earth

Rebellious weather. romanticism

sleeps in one of the Journal of the bunch

Below, I will not at this time

enjoy for a long time under the open sky.

I dream of dancing northern lights

Seita drum rhythm

when the receiver macrocosm,

it is my every cell feet.