There is no hope;
There's just a noose on the rope.
No ray of light;
There's just the darkness inside.
No one is here
To guide me through the mesh of agony.
No one is near
To shield me from my inner enemies.

There is no sun;
There are just bullets and guns.
There is no fun
Until the end of this run.
No one will need
To find a sense where it has never been.
No one will sing
About the miracles in our world of whims.

No silent dreams;
There's just a cesspool of sins.
No primal fear;
Nobody wants to be here.
No one can live
In the fairytales developed to deceive.
No one will grieve
For the innocence abolished for the need.  

No hues inside;
There's just the black of all kinds.
No sparkling eyes,
There is a shroud all the time.
No one will see
Our fall into the deepest precipice;
No one but me
Will watch the storm of the apocalypse.

This is the end of the time;
This is the end of the slavish pride;
This is the end of the cries;
This is the end of our precious, putrid life...