Baikal

Prehuman, subhuman, posthuman
Absence of dialogue, screaming reality
When the seas are claudicant
When the machine is now childhood
Depravity, illness and past
Enter the idiot voices of the wind
The sad echo or ego
Of the cultural void

Baikal

When the weapons returns to the stone
When the songs are the scheeches of the wolves
We now bath in the dead oceans of our desert

No memories, no feelings
Survival and instincts

To the prayed future without any mankind

Immorality of your nothingness
All your being is full of void
Atrocity is the only role model
Barbarism as protocol