Kings and conquerors build, conquer and destroy… Fire, rain, rust and ignorance destroy and bury their splendid palaces and cities… Their names remain, but their stories fade from living memory.
Thousands of years pass…
Then, one day, a storeroom full of clay tablets are found under a heap of ash and dirt and dust, where once there had been a magnificent palace… ancient markings reveal a glimpse of a glorious vanished empire. They whisper quietly into our ears with their ancient tongue…
"Come! Come... to the Lands of the Nobles, Come... see my beloved city... Walk up the stony steps; see how her palaces glint like honey gold in the rays of the blazing sun... their columns touching the clouds in the heaven... Come... walk in the gardens and hear the murmurs of fresh water rolling gently in streams... Great Kings have built my great city..."
The words long dead are interpreted, and we glean from meager fragments that we are as they once were… They lived, loved and died, as do we… Everything has changed and everything has remained the same… nothing has changed…
