Every voice interwoven in the sound of the world. The invisibility of illusion, having become a renegade of one's own language, imagines the foreign custody of stolen joy. Sounds of loneliness mock the loud thoughts, touching the foreign senses. That hearing, whose listening dwells in seeing, calls with the same answer, far from the one finding. Hoping for closeness, the song of silence laments itself to sleep. The space of all dreams widens, the image of hope blends into the glow of what has happened, the light's peculiarity dwells in the hidden. The power of resurrection calls.
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