The mountains are shaped in the form of images from past wars etched into the timeless granite. In the foreground the three entertainers mess up their tricks, the magician loses control of the doves of peace, the card trick is up another illusionist's sleeve but it spills everywhere, and the third with the string puppet, has he committed suicide or is it murder?
They stand on the petrified body that holds a rose symbolising the hope of peace. The bog may claim them. While the storm closes in over their heads the frail old giant clads himself in a coat of corpses.
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