It was snowing on the road. It was snowing inside us.
In the beginning we were twelve tribes.
In our sacks: the ancient sands.
But in the end only one tribe remained:
The young.
The ones who never really knew how life could be.
The ones who sadness couldn't kill them.

Background: the twelve tribes of Israel wandered for forty years in the desert, until the old generation, with their habits of slavery, died.