The children of the Dinaric mountains


A murder of crows circle overhead, a mist of crystals hangs spectre like, blurring their vision from the feeble cries below. Ancient falls of beauty and power tainted, poisoned, corrupted by a bigoted thirst never to be sated.

Relics of soviet ambition betray no light only fear as the young and old are culled with empty remorseless eyes inebriated on a culture of fear and hatred.

Restless souls dwell there, peering up from their ghostly veil. crushed finger’s stretched towards the bitter sun staring towards reptilian rifles . The women of lost men cry salt water tears for their love torn asunder and wrenched from the home. Now a cruel torturous mangle of blood and twisted bone.

This wondrous place of life and death where flowers cling to treacherous limbs of moss covered kingdoms. A savage microcosm of life’s photosynthesizing rainbow fractured lights. Alpine Melt water thunder’s into this natural abyss. Churning this vital spring the essence of death imbued creation, the minerals that sustain life.

These foul crimes against nature echo throughout this beautiful valley and resonate cruelly in all hearts of men.But silence is the real spectre that haunts the graves of lives wrenched untimely. For we turned our back’s and deafened the ears to their beckoning mournful call…………..



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