First days of November

First days of November
The Atlantic wind
Is blowing outside my fear

The energy coming
From the new year
Is trying to dry my tears

I have to chose my future ‘cause I am become a man
And the time can be seen as an old friend

Yes in this cold age
That we call “modern”
We cannot see the Gods’ hands

May be they are hidden
In somewhere behind
Where we can’t use our eyes

But we have crumbles of God just inside our essence
On our immortality we bet

And I’ve seen some bugs
Who are resurrecting
As autumn means just new life

No matter if they
Are faking the rays
Of this sun veiled by the rain

And perhaps the seasons are just books to be read
Do we start from beginning or from end?