Vol 1.

Now i understand, or maybe not. Why gods do what's surreal to our ocular spheres. Why a 33 year old man glorified a chapel with his vision of it all. Why an ingenious civilization with desires to expand to the highlands, have to be ridden of their possessions and dignity by devils with gunpowder. Why the independents are killed by their neighboring conformists, forced to identify themselves as something they're not. That on the length of time, they leave an impression to all, which produces a silence that's louder than any other word, accompanied with a vision of what it could have been, hence leaving their dark, persecuted era unknown. Maybe all i know is that the more i visually and physically experience the world, the more i realize i don't know. That when i accept to show my creation to the rest, i too will become immortal and be put on the most highest altar, with the greatest of them all.

Author's Note

For the ones who in some way relate, and for the ones who dont.