The monsters hunted my unconsciousness. They were after my soul.
My nights were so heavy, and I'm not permitted to dream.
My corrupted countrymen assassinated the confidence with our hearts and made us bleed sorely inside the cavity of life.
The most doubtful situations grabbed our souls by their collar and managed to suffocate their choices.
Our life converted from streams of humor into seas of sadness through the years, causing the birth of chaotic storms and delusions of expectations inside our dust bowl.

words by Michel Ah

art by Emil Alzamora