The heart of stone, chiseled with the hammer of boredom, will end up like sterile sand before the stormy ocean of the arrogant future. Offer encouragement and curiosity to your breast, and the flint will strike your heartbeat, and there will be brilliance. The wasteland will be an Edenic sigh.

The deployment of the atrocious word chisels with its fragile dagger a response inspired by sublime souls.

A piece of moonlight to compose celestial solfeggios. A star crystal to polish the arpeggios of the soul. That's what I seek in your gaze.

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