Calm funerary monumentstramples the parched ground of this deserts. The recoiled shadowy boredomsubmerges this incautious verziere of dreams. Again the black flow of timedefeated the chariots of the shining ageand overturned in muddy fords. Imbued in this fabric of memoriesthe present of my dubious certainties,a worn edgeof worn-out yearswhere the past is painand the wait has already passed. 3am thoughts, of my late cousin, for my late cousin and our early dreams.