A millenium passed away, small forests became jungles, mountains were devoured from sand violently exiled from sand violently exiled from vast deserts with the help of hands made from storms
It was as if someone wanted to erase the traces
The triumphant laughs of liberation are forgotem
The world that once seemed nes and vibrant turned pale and old
Why?
Maybe because of the strange inhabitants were to eager to forget the path that led them through

In their journey they were leaving behind not only spoken: not only part of their body but also part of their mind
And they became so tired, all they demanded was to rest
It wasn't difficult
There was not any apparent changes
So a strange kind of sleep
Fell among the lot
The more they cultivated this habbit
To seek in the deep matters of Lethargy
The more their enviroment changed
It was a curious transformation
It was as if someone wanted to erase the traces
Hoever there is one trace that will ever remain
Week as a whisper it can reopen the way
Just listen
Your Fathers knew these words by heart even those that never crossed, the eerie side