The wall spoke of no single song of the West,
as they came like swords,
ripping away the raw and fertile earth,
sowing rifts and dying grass.
This because he had seen their glory, and was afraid.
How could they receive him without fear in their hearts?
So his blade split their tongues,
and they bled in foreign ways.
Even though the colour was the same inside their skin,
the same that trickled from the corners of their mouths,
they no longer knew their brothers,
and scattered with fear incumbent.