Before people in the world lived gods, to whom people wanted and want to be similar.
But even earlier, when the gods were young, the world belonged to those who did not have a name,to those who has left.
There’s no book about them, they are not mentioned in stories and legends, they left no trace, only mysteries. People can not check, and therefore they either don’t believe or do not know about them.
For all what they believe in was written or had been already told by somebody.
And those who don’t have a name are remembered as dreams and fantasies. They’re known like a never told fairy tale.
Those who had no name and has left, sometimes come back to see the world of their childhood and smile, looking at people equal to the gods. For the gods, too, have long since left this world, giving it to their equals. Or have been overthrown and forgotten, books and stories tell in different ways.
And never people,equal to gods,noticed any of those,whose secrets didn’t give them a rest.
When one of those who has left, but came back, was asked: "Why did you come back, watch over them and do not tell them?". He replied:
"I can say that I don’t need it and it’ll be truth.
I can say that they do not need it, and it too will not be a lie.
I look at them and feel that they do not notice me passing by, as they pass the emptiness, not knowing how much shades, colors and smells it has.
I look at them as a rare turtles in the aquarium, who play and live.
But I also seem as a rare turtle, which looks through the glass of an aquarium at their world.
The only difference is that I know that they do not know.
If at least one of the men sit at the glass and look at the turtle, I will not return to that world. For they will be able to see and learn about us, they’ll be ablt to come to us themselves, opening doors.
But there isn’t enough hope that at least one turtle will stand at a glass and look at me. Namely, I wait for this moment the most....