The golden reeds in front of the ancient city have bent again, in the shadow of the messenger, the songbirds carry away the last words of peace.
He steps alone into the wilderness, the broken grass beneath his feet makes a sound of shattering,
as if it were a dirge for his departure.
The roots of ancient trees penetrate into the palm prints, moss crawls over the eyelids of the statue, the blade carves the covenant of the past gods.
Rusty gears swallow half a sentence of civilization, the glow from the chest of the giant illuminates the trembling eyes of the explorer.
Those who once knelt before the giant pillars have become skeletons in the sand.
What they worshipped was not a god, but a monument of curses.
This journey into darkness is like encountering the embryo of dawn.