A Song of Time
Sweet crescendo deafens their ears.
A mist sweeps violently the world
And magic knows no prejudice,
The core of nature, a natural selection to survive.
Power chooses and voices lift stronger in song.
The lullaby of time, the guess of future,
The melody of past.
A breath stops and voices drops,
Slowly fading…
Mesa forte…piano…pianissimo…
The lyrics stop and we reach the end of time.
