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“Sometimes, after a sandstorm, entire fields of tokkals (bone flowers) rise from the sands, only to disappear after a couple of days, with no trace that they were ever here in the first place. We have no idea where they come from, or where they return to. Even digging yielded no results. Pretty, though. The clinking of the bones against one another sounds like an ocean of chimes.”
- Albe Ombrelune, Al-Katib Al-Awwal
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https://youtu.be/lD1_E4UtMUg?si=2hDLwSnV0ULa_bCC
The sympathy in my mind is growing cold
Life is like the burning sand so I'm told
The time is coming near when solitude appears
Take the chains of oppression away
Through the sands of time I'm marching on
The blistering rays of hate strengthen me
The violent mass has shown my destiny
Does all of this justify the rage inside
The desert rain is changing me
It's called on me to rise
A world of hate and malice
Yes, that's the way it seems
The hour glass is running out
The serpent rides with me
We shall rise and conquer
Crushing all that's weak
All that's light is burning out
The serpent rides with me
The sympathy in my mind is growing cold
Life is like the burning sand so I'm told
The time is coming near when solitude appears
Take the chains of oppression away
Through the sands of time I'm marching on
The blistering rays of hate strengthen me
The violent mass has shown my destiny
Does all of this justify the rage inside
The desert rain is changing me
It's called on me to rise
A world of hate and malice
Yes, that's the way it seems
The hour glass is running out
The serpent rides with me
We shall rise and conquer
Crushing all that's weak
All that's light is burning out
The serpent rides with me
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