Since the dark ages, The old stones, Memory of dying time, Are dancing, clinging through the worlds. They sow their dust, Vestige of the past. Whispering among the winds, The colossus blows the dreams. This spirit’s breath becomes tales, Becomes songs. The cycle is ruled. One song for the life and One song for the death. And from them, all worlds are born. A refrain for all the worlds. A refrain for all the worlds that will die. Melodies are keepers of History. But, since too long, I’m the witness of their demise. And I look for a breeze, A last breath or a last note… at worst. There is only noise, residue of a dark din. I dive into the wound of this world. I dive into the scars of this world. I’m searching for this first note. Hearts are frozen since too long. They whisper, the end of all things.