to hope.
To hope is to dream. To long for without mercy...
the Mother of me, how I belong to you. No land but you,
no other song or temple of ruin. It all goes back to you.
In my veins, you run. These ancient lands of poetry and mysticism.
From the Deserts of Fanah, to the Tropic Mountains of the Caspian Sea...
bring my home back to me.
Let me kneel across the sands of oppress and decay. Where the blood of my family runs a river to soothe not even the most heartbreaking days.