Silence, we do not speak of those we mourn, of those we have lost

The sun will set soon, pushed by the sacred scarab.

It will not rise, as the beetle breathes its last breath.

Our purpose is served, creatures of the night will reign.

The evil will grow, our humanity fade.

The history will be lost, the true purpose and meaning.

We will not return.

We will not leave.

We will live in spirit among our children.

Who will live in the night.

We are echoes, we are no longer human.