That was an unusual, golden autumn...
The breath of a wind was gliding
Cemetery's avenues with the ocean
Of constantly falling leaves
The trees were dying plaintively
Crooning their last threnody;
They have been whispering the names
We all wouldn't like to remember…

And then he came without saying a word
Slowly sat down and lighted ever-burning fire
''For whom?'' - I have asked
''For myself…'' - he has answered
And streams of strange voices suddenly came down

He pulled out a rope and tied round his neck
Stood up on a chair and silently nod his head to me
I came a bit closer and looked at his face, asking him: ''Why?''

''Because this world doesn't need me anymore
The human mankind became self-dependent
As notion of good and evil
Has got new, conscious meanings
Paradise has not been lost
As it has never [bad word] existed
As well as original sin, heaven and [bad word] Or other fictitious worlds…
That all has been made-up [bad word]  rape and kill,
To chain human's power, passion and will''

''Pray for quick death, You son of a [bad word] 
Now You feel taste of vendetta!!!''
I spat on his face and hardly kicked the chair…?