Bewitched by the eternal rhythm of divine breath, perverse he smiled
to the prickly knock of rain drops, his body was cruel like beauty, his eyes
incandescent like silk. Transfixed by an absolute lightning of freedom,
He freed himself in an uncensored dance. Possessed by a pressing
desire of being, fibrillation of misleading welfare. Star, unreachable demiurge,
ice, frost and silence. A light dyed with ghost-white his heart,
gusts of jade struck his memory. Icon of collective dreams,
pulverized by magic fears, ancient gold of a waste land.
He turned his thoughts into words and his words into actions
And his moan was like a sweet chant without words.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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