Some arid lands follower by some infinite seas
Endlessly, an ochre and blue palette.
Oceans without any life more.
Some vague memories of the forest lung

And for only witness
In all this immensity
The deadly caress
Of the last sun’s ray

This is not a prophecy
Neither a dream nor a nightmare
This is just our future reality

The wind is not anymore the synonymous with coolness
It is burning, spinning round, and stifling
It uncovers sometimes, the past relics
Some mortal remains and civilization last traces

This is not a prophecy
Neither a dream nor a nightmare
This is just our future reality

But what remains of it?
Who’s able now to tell the story?
Only god can!
And his task is finally complered!