Octagon

On the stage of lifetime pours the juice of dreams
Feeding like a stream
Those whose
Idle curiosity marches on

Try to look deeper
Everyone’s got a hiding keeper
And the sins are declared by people

And the first time you see this when you’re young
The tangle of fingered briars among
(Briars among)

In the waves of applause and the ocean of crowd
Begging for a boat when it’s not allowed

One won’t be blamed for the violence he sows
The carrion will be feast for the cloud of crows

After quaint dance beneath the offended Sun
In the octagon the valuation’ll be done
Melting in the ferocity of the whooping sound
In the octagon the salvation’ll be found

The suspicious freedom of the wrong play
Stabs the noses of gladiators of today
(Jesters of today)

The ashes of rage dissolve in the mist
Every limb with lightning speed moves and twists
In spite of the stitches on the wrists

One turns around to see astonished eyes
Doesn't even suspects of the beauties of skies

Ropes of hopeless scorch the insides
Gritting our teeth in silence abide
Those chasing days and sleepless nights
We’ve got into

The quaint dance (the offended Sun)
The ferocity (the whooping sound)
Octagon totally makes us dry
In the octagon all the weakness will die