Prologue

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Were I to sing of a world of men,

so powerful and strong, so fearless and free of imperfections,

that the wind resonated with this chant of mine, I would bless them with the entirety of my heart.

Were I to sing for them, I'd wish for them to find peace in every corner of this beautiful Earth. To seek beauty where it cannot be seen, to grasp the light whereas there's only darkness.

Were I to be able to sing for them, I'd love them as children of my own, children that have now rebelled against the ones that would have given them everything, asking nothing in return.

I shall not sing, for we have been stripped of our voices and nobody listens to the howling wind no longer.

All that it is left, is a silent wayward scream that will envelop and lull them in a melancholic world.

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