June 17th 100,000,000 BC 12 O'clock at night
Four children are born, quadruplets, the youngest born at the strike of midnight. The first child is named Queverial, the detik Ceelarion, the third Ierailiasha, and the last one is named Mist. The father decides the last child should have a complex name as the others do but the mother has made up her mind that Mist is the perfect name.
Then she sends them through the mirror of fate to find there destiny. They may never return if they do not find it in time.
January 21st 9,999,990 BC 3:30 P.M.
The children grow up living in the chosen lands behind the mirror of fate. They grow close to each other and learn how to survive. The others take care of Mist and protect him.
The mother sees the land the mirror has chosen and warns the father of the barren lands their children must survive on.
November 4th 9,999,980 BC 7:56 P.M.
The children have learned to hunt and fight. they will soon begin their journey to find their destiny.
Their guardian malaikat visits them in their dreams. She tells them of their quest and what they must do. She tells them they must leave each other and look for the one place that calls to them, that they are drawn to. There they shall find their chosen destiny.
The selanjutnya morning they leave to cari of their destiny. Mist surely isn't coming back, they know this. He is small and vulnerable and has been protected his entire life.
Mist leaves his brothers with tears in his eyes. Even he knows he will not come back. He knows that death soon will fall upon him. He is not ready for death but it must come.
'Tis my destiny to die I suppose.' he tells Ceelarion, 'but I am not ready to die, my life, it is just beginning, and now its going to end. without me knowing what would happen if I survived.'
'Farewell, little brother,' says Ceelarion.
'Farewell, dear Ceelarion. I shall miss anda very much.'
Four children are born, quadruplets, the youngest born at the strike of midnight. The first child is named Queverial, the detik Ceelarion, the third Ierailiasha, and the last one is named Mist. The father decides the last child should have a complex name as the others do but the mother has made up her mind that Mist is the perfect name.
Then she sends them through the mirror of fate to find there destiny. They may never return if they do not find it in time.
January 21st 9,999,990 BC 3:30 P.M.
The children grow up living in the chosen lands behind the mirror of fate. They grow close to each other and learn how to survive. The others take care of Mist and protect him.
The mother sees the land the mirror has chosen and warns the father of the barren lands their children must survive on.
November 4th 9,999,980 BC 7:56 P.M.
The children have learned to hunt and fight. they will soon begin their journey to find their destiny.
Their guardian malaikat visits them in their dreams. She tells them of their quest and what they must do. She tells them they must leave each other and look for the one place that calls to them, that they are drawn to. There they shall find their chosen destiny.
The selanjutnya morning they leave to cari of their destiny. Mist surely isn't coming back, they know this. He is small and vulnerable and has been protected his entire life.
Mist leaves his brothers with tears in his eyes. Even he knows he will not come back. He knows that death soon will fall upon him. He is not ready for death but it must come.
'Tis my destiny to die I suppose.' he tells Ceelarion, 'but I am not ready to die, my life, it is just beginning, and now its going to end. without me knowing what would happen if I survived.'
'Farewell, little brother,' says Ceelarion.
'Farewell, dear Ceelarion. I shall miss anda very much.'
It’s the color of you
anda always wore it
It’s the color we shared
As we hid from them
With it we showed our true selves,
Though no one cared
Our jeruk, orange book bags
Were our shields from some of the pain
We protected each other
But it wasn’t enough
We were like two jeruk, orange crayons
When everyone else was green
Then anda left me alone,
All I had was our color orange
As they hit me
I took peace in knowing
anda were in the jeruk, orange field in the sky
anda always berkata was there.
The jeruk, orange of the sun set
Is your smile
Even though anda left too soon
Orange…
Now it’s my color
My way of remembering you
Now I am the lone jeruk, orange in the rainbow
Without anda here
I protect my own
Though I wish anda were here
Now jeruk, orange is my color
A color for your bravery
A color for my survival
jeruk, orange will forever be our color
Even though death took anda away
Forever jeruk, orange for you,
Sweet Cassidy.
anda always wore it
It’s the color we shared
As we hid from them
With it we showed our true selves,
Though no one cared
Our jeruk, orange book bags
Were our shields from some of the pain
We protected each other
But it wasn’t enough
We were like two jeruk, orange crayons
When everyone else was green
Then anda left me alone,
All I had was our color orange
As they hit me
I took peace in knowing
anda were in the jeruk, orange field in the sky
anda always berkata was there.
The jeruk, orange of the sun set
Is your smile
Even though anda left too soon
Orange…
Now it’s my color
My way of remembering you
Now I am the lone jeruk, orange in the rainbow
Without anda here
I protect my own
Though I wish anda were here
Now jeruk, orange is my color
A color for your bravery
A color for my survival
jeruk, orange will forever be our color
Even though death took anda away
Forever jeruk, orange for you,
Sweet Cassidy.
Violently, the ground shook,
As the mountain exhaled black smoke.
Overwhelmed, they ran for cover,
Those left began to choke.
Cherished, were the possessions left behind,
Melted and scattered as ash.
Beloved, the children lost,
They couldn’t make a cepat, swift dash.
Darkened, the cloudy heavens above,
Black clouds fell from the sky.
Covered, the people escaping,
With no way out they began to die.
Lost, the souls of the trapped,
A snatched half-chance at life.
Fallen is Pompeii;
Civilisation, cinta and it’s people’s cries.
As the mountain exhaled black smoke.
Overwhelmed, they ran for cover,
Those left began to choke.
Cherished, were the possessions left behind,
Melted and scattered as ash.
Beloved, the children lost,
They couldn’t make a cepat, swift dash.
Darkened, the cloudy heavens above,
Black clouds fell from the sky.
Covered, the people escaping,
With no way out they began to die.
Lost, the souls of the trapped,
A snatched half-chance at life.
Fallen is Pompeii;
Civilisation, cinta and it’s people’s cries.