I was looking for birds at the dawn of sunset, but there was nothing there.
I was hearing whispers during that time, hard to distinguish what they were: jaguars, birds, wild dogs.
A landscape without life and without color, a dead landscape.
It was just what there was.
A view without beauty.
A landscape without life and without color, a dead landscape.
There is no beauty, only death.
I spent nights watching the crescent moon, but with a dull glow.
There is no beauty around here, only death.
A landscape without life and without color, a dead landscape.
That will be all you find, a dead landscape.
With no trace of the beautiful and the divine, only death and decay.