Aimless wanderers, born out of restlessness, is who we are. Traveling through cities and countries, neither caring nor knowing why. Endless plains of human life far flung into oblivion by the smirk of the passing jets. And never does it end, this restlessness. A part of every country lost in the madness of this mind, tangled with renewed hopes of a simpler future. Crimson skies gaping wide open at hundreds of civilizations, converging at the horizon with angry waves. With neither hope nor purpose the wanderers amble on.