Poem: Ancestors of the ancient clan, I beckon, raise your heads, far and fair from the endless mantle, rise to the kneading of the talking drums, baring proverbs from a new world, that – this skies are falling into pieces. Grab...



Poem: Ancestors of the ancient clan, I beckon, raise your heads, far and fair from the endless mantle, rise to the kneading of the talking drums, baring proverbs from a new world, that – this skies are falling into pieces. Grab...