In my dreams, I heard your footsteps coming closer. In my dreams I tried to talk to you and introduce myself. Guardian of the miracle and the miracle banner, with great pain, I carry the emblem of the father. I am the hands of bloodied skin, I am the eyes from which our mother gazes. But nothing I know of you, except your cold nameless visage. Apart from your calloused and wounded hands. Apart from the mourning of your deaths. No, I know nothing of you, only the miracle knows. Now may your sword full of guilt and mine of gold, collide. Let them hurt and march in procession. I curse you forever in name, I bless you forever in death.