A corpse who looks like a dead wanderer
The ancient keeper of celestial vortex wisdom
A mummified king with a black drop in his hear

A hook through the brain
From the divine speech rain
Metaphoric meteorite falling apart
Something like prophetic strain
From the heaven's wide pathless way

'Cause words of gods are black drops
In the corridor train of the mind

Look at the flying beetle
Who rolls his ball along the crimson ground
Mansion made of fleshly nook

Look at the golden beetle
Who rolls an embrya barn of his own tot

Like the spirit construction
In the celestial heart
Gives birth to immortality embrya

But the metaphoric black pearl must return to the sky

Words of gods are black drops
In the corridor train of mind

Holy driver of the falling drops, take it away into the sky

Black drop journey