The wall of the prophets fell into disrepair.
A sunny glow shines over the conflagration.
Everyone has dreams and nightmares.
But no one will win the crown of the winner,
when the cry drowns in silence.
Tumult will be my weapon.
I stood up walking on a thorny road.
Where love grows, drama hurts less.
But I can hear you crying.
The deeds of people determine destiny.
Knowledge does not lead when they break the rules.
I see that humanity depends on fools.
The chronicler writes the praise of the winner.
The marble merits were engraved on steles.
Seeds of time create history.
I am afraid that tomorrow I will hear you cry.