In the name of evil that undresses man’s soul and the love that clothes it again The twenty three thousand year old mystery started in the year of the east white dragon The monks are in search of the door which opens to the endlessness of space; together they sacrificed their lives for a secret, if only they knew what had been kept safe in the deep layers of the verses of a poet by love after thousands of years
Those who leave their fingerprints on the bejeweled grip of the sirius beheaded dagger, if they only knew that the dagger collects blood even in its scabbard. Baghdad, Istanbul, Rome, Paris and other cities, with the new love washed ashore, if only they knew that it is dense to fill up all their old histories
Wiseman, killers, royals and lovers, if only they knew that the book they are holding is a chunk of love ready to burst into flames
The poet, if he only knew that the password hidden like dreams within silky verses were torn by coarse hands with passion, that the grail of the wine of eternity he constructed of poppy leaves were messed up with hatred…
And now, who is to tell what will happen, when Babylon awakens?