The marks left by the time are the evidence of who we were, as well as the omen of who we will become. 

Plastic and metal now scratch what were once natural landscapes, monuments leave place to new symbolic structures, designed unconsciously by a newfound apathy of modernity.

Meanwhile, nature catches a breath only when apart from the human touch, growing inside concrete cracks or climbing on collapsed walls that were never rebuilt.

Time has by now become only a shelter where everything hides, hoping that problems will be solved and diseases will be cured. Passive, awaiting for a better future, they watch life passing by.

I stared at a pile of stones, so far I could see them shine, so far I could see them in their dawn.

I got close enough to enter it, discovering that time has left permanent marks.
I have captured them to study, translate and read them.

They seem like sounds, shouts and laughters.
I could not understand, but I found them interesting.