Blood on My Hands - Shackleton, Ricardo Villalobos

When I see the towers fall,

It cannot be denied that,

As a spectacle,

It is a realization of the mind.

You see,?

I’m standing on a mountaintop

And letting out a scream,

It’s the language of the earth,

It is the language of the beasts.

There’s no point to look behind us,

We left the corpse behind,

Because flesh is weak and forms break down.

They cannot last forever