On the horizon
I see a grey scene
towards it, I launch myself and go
I don't accept when they say
that the end of everything is grey
I see grey as the birth of a color

When things end
they always say: It turned grey
what an immense misunderstanding that is
grey is the essence of ashes, and ashes
are poetry, you need it to endure the
horror that exists on this earth

On the horizon
I see a grey scene
towards it, I launch myself and go
I don't accept it when they say
that the end of everything is gray
Phoenix rose from the ashes with honor

And so will I every time I burn into flames
I know from the grey ashes I will rise
with new wings to fly to the horizon and
towards it launch myself and go, knowing
that the end of everything is not grey
grey is just the birth of a new color