Julia Yumax Biography

Open my window on the edge of the universe ... The breath of spring warmer in the kitchen tea. My angel for you painted the walls of silver dew in the morning and flew to China, where luxurious peonies bloom regally, and the cranes slide through the rice fields, where the palaces of heavenly dragons are guarding, and lions await at the entrance to each temple. There are many outlandish gizmos, beauties and sages on the silk path, and, wings of fumigating with jasmine and sandalwood, my angel wears the Chinese face there.

You look at the porcelain through a lightning veil, and a saucer on the table will melt like a moon, and a cup in the hands of transparents will dissolve, spinning at my window ... About eternal at an hour of orphan, similar to the river, look at its flow. And the whole world around will dissolve, giving a sore soul a rest. Fold the alarms not warming armor, throw off the grimacing hatches, give your original sin to the water and tears petrified carats.

Rinse yourself the past and accept, without separating from all living things. And in the uniforms with God and people, without interrupting, start again. I am pregnant with air, as if I loved God. And the oxygen flows into my core from heaven. I feel like a shelter, the holy prison of purity, that so far I have not touched earthly progress. Matters of particles of neutrinos - unsolved letters of the universe of a thick stream misses matter.

God wanted to give again to the people of his dear Son, he said that the planet so again needed the Prophet. The embryo of the Holy Mary covers the eyes through the threshold of deafening outbursts of unclear torment. The doctor's spotlights are blinded in surgery. Electric current, acute scalpel and strength of alcohol are the comfort of sorrows and oblivion of sins. In our century, humane crowns are made from Mirta, and thorns - no longer hurt the holy heads.

There have been no crosses for a long time in Calvary: lenses of idle and pilgrims of faith, which she is like salt. With a peacekeeping mission, they die God -like and among veterans are controlled by control. A premature baby is sleeping in the barorammer. I am not able to endure, so that it is only possible to quickly, when compacting oxygen, accelerating it through the tubes, with a white lily to meet the born daughter.

I was crucified, I was crucified. Today I am resurrected. But my pain decreased hardly. You, like me, carried your cross. And, like me, they died before the deadline. War of war, and soda, and hatred in the hearts to strangers and loved ones corrupted. Why was the brother obsessed, where was the lead, since fate was soared into the sky by an obelisk? Who exterminated the seedlings of eternal life and erected ideals to faith?

Silent, cooling, a memorial to the hero of someone’s will and chimeras. The secrets of the fallen - valiantly keep a plowman now. Here is my stubble and my light plow - a quick to work. Not for that today I rose, so that again at Calvary to be crucified. But, as before, I am contrary to everything that destroys the spirit and body of my brother. And now I sleep, the hands of eternity and limb intertwine, and the shores sigh about the water.

And nearby he is like people. It’s dark, as in a crypt, I see nothing, I do not ask for bread or bread. In the cabinets, lace spray turns yellow. The impenetrable route is dim.