The time of water for dreams will pass

And let your voice depart like the flute

A melody that greets the sun of a day that speaks of an ancient death

He departs with the echoes of the rain

O you who burned the back of the morning

My heart lies beside me like a rock in the shadows of silence

In the eyes of creation, life trembles on the edges of shadow

It warns us that the text has fallen

She did not want to drop it

And the letters tell the stories of doubt and danger

May your departure from us be a rose of light

A lily on the moon's cheek

May your arrival, O cruel one, be a provision for the tribe's seasons of pain

To sell humiliation to the dead and revive all the history of words

Was that sweet sound anything but the sound of your footsteps?

Does he carry stories to the sky and cross the illuminated bridge?

He wears the wing of fire and the coming ones

He sings in space

The captive star returned to tell the departing ones

that they return

So that they may pluck from the flowers what will make the stone shine

How are the visions, O you who come from the secret of the wind?

Are you waiting for the horses?

Or do the water daughters go on in the dream of darkness?

It is revealed when the kiss dispels the shadows

How do visions and waves shake the hard string?

It rises, then fades

In a dim light that extinguishes the brilliance

How can visions and a wound be filled with a stifled pulse?

In a plague-ridden season, he is stripped of the salt of pain

Will a cry from the wreckage be born in the silence of the appointed times?

May your departure be

Between the pulsation of feathers in the depths of the night

And a song tells the tale of all who come near

That silence is a wounded flower

He climbs souls and slips into a tablet he inscribes

O you who come, who carries the heart of the night

For the one who is pained by visions, is there a shadow he hopes for?

In every feeling, there is an ember awakening from a distant tomorrow

He runs through the streets of dreams and the memory of noise

The veil has fallen, sir

And the blood washes away the honor of the unleashed wound

We were... and it was

It's a lie; we were nothing but fleeting shadows

She masters tragedy and dances in praise of wailing

Who will carry the torn shirt of the dream?

Or he consoles his desire and draws near, for the time is near!

We were... and it was

It was nothing but a falling meteor

And it shines in the mirrors of the impossible

I see him now in the radiance of whiteness

It grows in the mountains of rejection

I see him now in the sun of hope

My love and sincerity are as certain as the sun

And the palm of pride raises the banner of the impossible

I see him riding on green steeds

He seeks battles of light

I see him as a negotiator and a clasher

And I see him creeping in the beautiful threads of dawn

Like a river leaving its course

He masters singing in the shadows of listening

This is what was forged from the sorrows of winter

We were... and it was

My face on the floating river of blood

It floats like a death rose

And the gasp of the flame of time

We were... and it was

I preferred to listen

A bullet pierces my chest and rises

The voice of freedom rises with the call to prayer for salvation.