Paleness of swollen eyes, staring into the mist; Colours and shapes, mixed in the picture of dream. Tired limbs, broken will to persist: Flock of people is marching away downstream. Hail the purifying flame. Wrinkles of pressing past, deeply cut in the face; Broken thoughts, washed away by the rain. Getting used to being last in the race: Meet yourself in the mirror and bow to the game. Hail the purifying flame.