Some hours wait for the right eyes.
1/11
There is an hour that was never written, yet every ancient remembered it.
4:33
This is why it still burns.

ALT A hooded figure kneels on red-lit desert sand at night, facing a small fire. Sparks rise in a tall vertical stream into the dark sky. Symbols or markings are drawn on the sand in front of the fire. The scene is illuminated by deep red and orange tones, with rocky silhouettes in the background.