Our days are dwindling,
Eventually the ground sour with distain, will call toward the sun, our savior,
Beckoning it toward the earth and extinguish its warmth in the cool emptiness that is the sea,
Shadows will crawl and travel the surface of a once virgin world,
The symbols of its impurity marked by the cement roads cut into its layers,
The paving over of its abundant misty jungles,
The cloak of gray we have thrown on to the heavens to shield our selves of everything we do not know,
The land will become one to our successors our own mistakes and shadows,
Until the scene will fade into the subtle chaos of a backdrop of velvet black,
In which the atmosphere is tainted with millions of eyes of quiet observation,
Their whispers carried on by the winds of the east and fall towards the west to be silenced,
The sun will rise again once more,
Kissing the earth with fond remembrance,
A new era is born, derived from the soft arms of patience,
The land will become cleansed with the tears of the fallen and tears of the triumphant, each moving towards the peace of oblivion.