The blood of whom they
worship: the blood of those they...

The most splendid song of despair
that I have ever sung...

The nature of dream
is wakefulness...

How easy is to
conceal our shames behind...

She noticed her face
was a mask amongst many...

I am in awe of the translation of your eyes,
from the forgotten languages of dreams...

How I float on the flow of this music,
how I realize I am a share in this music...

Your smile,
the white queue of musical tone...

Life is a case of watercolour,
caterpillars relinquishing being crawlers...

Those who've tried so hard
to sweep him away by brooms...

All her life searching
for real beauty seeing...

The dawns of towns are
empowered by the spirits...