I met this old man once, on a cliff's edge on which a lookout spot stood.
He was battered and tired, i had never even seen a person who looked older than 70, he told me of the ruins seen from that spot, how he lived there, and how they lived before the wars, he also told me of those dark days of seige, the bombings, how few survived it and how even fewer decided to remain there.
I feared he was the last one of his kind, but at least, he gave me his songs and memories.