Music : Conscience
Texts : Nicolas Moulard
What's been written is sometimes
A place that can't be reached,
A bridge that lets mind spill
Onto the tangible world.
A keyhole to outside the empirical,
A place to peep from without falling
Down the slippery chain of thought,
Turning it into a snail-spiral staircase
That allows it to carry the light
Further down the cave.
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