Staring at the ceiling, it's me and my companion I called once my revelation .... he found a speechless mind to talk to ... and when he came back to me he found me as speechless as the other mind ..... Revelation told me I'm finding a way to mortality .... for what is to be said has been said .... what is to be done has been done .... all the shrines crumbled and all the idols turned to dust ... belief became the silent portrait of a beautiful woman who aged and died aeons ago .... and what remains is the lonely portrait in the gallery for others to know she has once lived in an era when people praised and appreciated her beauty ....... and being only dictates its' chronicles to nothingness ..... pathetic