In the legend of the world where never back from what is fulfilled

 In the legend of the world where I never come back from what is fulfilled as a heavy air of pain from the memory that I have you and maybe you have me we will have us they will have us once forgotten like everything that inevitably is fulfilled in the terrible ardor of the strongest in its specular destruction that continues to be written in perpetual inscription of the external and internal destruction of all "imagined" another "supposedly" enemy in its excessive scientific-technological development up to the teeth armed with lively greed for all raw materials wherever they are there they were