black in kingdoms of gold
like the rocks of this desert
where we wander in circles
tails up the ass of time

And our vision
goes backwards
the traces we see
after something
ot even existing
beyond the prints

All dreams end here
where our cries began
resounding to museums
of a world we believed
neverending

And we stop
exhausted
beginning
not again

And the panic
like the light
of some star
exploding

Flashing in black holes of not knowing
if we ever made a away out of this mud