Under the Jurassic sun, the colossi awoke, claws, crests, and scales rumbled on the earth.
The Tyrannosaurus roared with its empire of fear, while the Triceratops reared its master, they flew over the gray Pterodactyls, and in the jungles the Brachiosaurus gnawed at roots.
It was a world of myths, of jaws and vigor,
where each creature wrote its own song, but one day the sky burned with treacherous brilliance, an incandescent star crossed the clear sky.
The volcanoes screamed, the air was poisoned and the sea, in black waves, uttered its lament, The herbivores fled, the predators hunted, but dust covered everything… and time erased them.
Silence remained, inhabiting eggshells, while life, stubborn, sought another new dream. Today, their bones are books beneath layers of earth, guardians of secrets that the ice still buries.
Children, in wonder, reconstruct their existence, and in museums, their shadows re-emerge.
¿Were they gods or mistakes of a planet on trial?
Their legacy tells us that life is never short; even if time extinguishes them, their echo remains here, giants who teach us how to live in their world.
