| Born in the auroral arc’s centre
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| With eyes reflecting its sublime ways
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| A splendid vision to enter
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| Robed in the semblance of beams in haze
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| It enlights his eternal questioning
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| Of worlds in space afar
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| As the curtain of the known is vanishing
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| Under the portrait of a star
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| He sees a paradise in every flower
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| A solar system in every spark
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| He’s trying to reach a subliminal power
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| And slowly sinks into the dark
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| Scenic radiance hides its embers
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| In the function of rising a tide
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| But mountain summits still remembers
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| Where it use to ride
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| His heart, the thunders imitation
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| His breath, the gentle winds vocation
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| In a pensive spirit unsealing the bodly cocoon
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| As his mind swallows the moon
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| He sees a paradise in every flower
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| A solarsystem in every spark
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| He’s trying to reach a subliminal power
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| And slowly sinks into the dark
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| Like a mental Columbus in ecstacy
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| Controlling his spiritual cave
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| But just a microscopical cell in the galaxy
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| So, he’s both master and slave
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| A burning comet which tries to pass
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| Through the universal door
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| Where ashrams lurks in the hourglass
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| Deep within the cosmic core
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| He sees a paradise in every flower
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| A solarsystem in every spark
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| He’s trying to reach a subliminal power
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| And slowly sinks into the dark |