My broken spirit's glad to meet its death.
The hards of life can blind my eyes.
A pawn moves on the surface dead
and digs its layer and then dies.
My dream is muddling all the real life.
Shades, lights – they play a gist of fate.
Black squares are blending with the night
and whites are similar to days.
The sand of life does vertically slide
and a horizon's near and too far.
Chess-men move to and fro behind the line.
Eternity and Life are meeting fast.
(translated from Russian)
My page on a Russian site: http://www.stihi.ru/avtor/boreaus
There is a war on for your mind: http://www.infowars.com/